Kotor II: Ruin, Mystery, Dreams
by Yolashillinia
Summary: Selyn Tekeri. Atton Rand. The rest of the gang. PTSD up the wazoo. Free will, love, self-identity, and a galaxy in the balance. Complete.
1. Part 1: The Mandalorian War

Part 1: The Mandalorian War

She stood in the crowd, watching her friends. Revan was gesticulating passionately, pouring all of her persuasive powers into her earnest plea. "We must help them! Is it not the duty of a Jedi to help the people? We may not be soldiers, we may be peaceful warriors, but we can fight for the defense of the Outer Rim, for the lives and safety of the trillions who live there, those who would be slaughtered by the vicious Mandalorians." Alek stood behind her, a strong, manly shadow, nodding emphatically with her.

Selyn liked hearing Revan speak like this. In private, Revan was a tease, a confident woman with a broad sense of humour. But she was a true Knight, and gave gladly of her aid to anyone who asked. Even and especially the Republic.

The crowd cheered, a crowd of Jedi and Padawans, most of them younger than Sophie herself, and she was only twenty-three. There were so many of them, so young and energetic and devoted to the Light, trained so well under their Masters.

There was a hum as Revan lit her saber, cobalt blue. It reflected in her cool grey eyes. Behind her, Alek raised his golden saber, and Selyn was the first in the crowd to lift her silver blade, followed swiftly by a myriad of colours from the Jedi around them.

"The Council will not protect the Rim," Revan cried. "It is up to us to do what what must be done. I cannot live protected by the Council while others suffer and die in the flames of war."

"We are with you, Revan!" Alek responded, and another cheer rose from the crowd.

"Then we shall leave for the Fleet in two days," Revan said. "Bring only what you need. Bid farewell to your friends who remain, and charge them with keeping this place a strong sanctuary, for though we must leave, it is no shame to remain. And then – then the Mandalorians will destroy lives no longer."

* * *

She stood shin-deep in mud, wiping the rain from her brow and flinching at the explosions. While the Republic Fleet and the Mandalorians were tangled up in space above the jungle moon, one side or the other would sometimes spare a turbolaser blast for the struggle on the ground, and the minefields and cannon fire were a constant rumble.

And it was a terrible struggle. The Mandalorians were strong and fierce. They had been fighting for a week over the same patch of ground. This day, the Republic would drive them back two kilometers, or Selyn would die in the attempt.

Her men nodded wearily at her, but they still smiled to see her. Her presence inspired them, somehow. She checked in with her captains, and they nodded. Her forces were ready. She pointed with her lightsaber, and together they began the charge towards the Mandalorian lines.

She did not want to think about the bloodbath that was about to begin.

* * *

She stood on the bridge of the Reconciler – a name she had come to hate, for their war had no reconciliation in it anywhere – and gazed down on Malachor V. Revan had led them here, in her insight and tactical genius. Here their last hope would be unleashed. There would be no reinforcements for either side. The Mandalorians had run out of men, and the Republic Fleet's pride was a crippled, broken thing. It would be the last battle of a pointless, hideous war.

They came, and the battle began.

She glanced at the Zabrak tech who had been chosen to be in charge of the 'red button'. It was a horrible thing they had constructed. Selyn had argued with Revan and Malek – as he called himself now – for months. Revan had told her sharply that they had no choice, that the Mandalorians would destroy only more systems unless their forces were completely disintegrated, and Selyn had countered softly that it was too great a sacrifice of their own side. In the end Revan convinced her. But her friends were changed by the war – she herself had been changed by the war. In the three years since Dxun, they had all grown callous to death, seeing their forces as numbers rather than people. But Revan and Malak, perhaps, had been changed more than she had.

In the end Revan convinced her. And she built the plan of battle. But the battle was not going to plan. The Mandalorians were too strong, too soon. And Revan's fleet was delayed.

The Zabrak was watching her, of course – it was his job until she gave the order. His face was impassive, but his thoughts roiled with darkness. Her lips twitched. Soon, she thought, soon they could all go home and begin the long, slow process of healing. All of their thoughts were full of darkness. And Malachor, steeped in the Dark Side, was not helping.

Revan would not come in time. They would all die unless…

Selyn turned to the Zabrak and nodded.

It was slow, at first. But it was terrifying. The ship lurched, although it was at what had been calculated to be a safe distance.

The three planetoids of Malachor were moving. Slowly, it seemed. But something that large…

The ships of the Mandalorians, of the Republic desperately fighting them, tried to escape.

Selyn watched in fascinated horror as the three planets and both fleets were drawn to a point in space. Nearer, nearer…

The collision was indescribable. So was the pain. A hundred thousand mental shrieks tore through Selyn's mind, and she herself screamed in the agony of their agonies.

Then, suddenly, everything went mercifully dark.


	2. Part 2: Renaissance

Part 2: Renaissance

.

Selyn Tekeri came back to herself, slowly, groggily. She was lying on a freezing cold metal floor, in her under-things, in a well-lit room that stank of kolto.

Someone had called her name?

She was not in the habit of speaking her thoughts aloud, and she wondered silently where she was as she sat up, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering. There was a door in front of her, and…

Behind her were five kolto tanks, four of them occupied by still figures. The fifth was empty and she guessed that she had been in it until recently. Who, then, had removed her? Had she crawled out unconsciously? It wouldn't have been the first time, but it always bothered her when that happened. It wasn't as if the Force had done it for her.

That power had left her long ago and she no longer missed it.

She climbed slowly to her feet and went over to one of the tanks.

The man inside was dead.

She twitched in surprise and horror and took two quick steps backward. The others were all dead.

She shivered, then collected herself and turned to the door. She had to find out where she was, and why she was there.

The door whispered open to reveal a brightly lit hallway. She was definitely in the medical wing of some facility or other. There was an office nearby, empty, and she went in where it was slightly warmer. Perhaps someone would come to explain to her. Although, she wasn't optimistic that anyone would come if there were bodies in the kolto. Someone should have dealt with that. Were there any someones left?

She collected herself in an office chair and tried to remember how she could have ended up there.

It was no good. Her last memories were of the Republic ship Harbinger, of being in her quarters. But this was not on a ship. It was too quiet, too stable. Had they been in a battle during which she had taken a hit to the head and developed short-term amnesia? That was the best theory she could form at the moment, but she still _knew_ nothing, and she hungered for more knowledge.

After a moment she glanced idly at the computer terminal on the desk and saw that there were video logs recorded. She accessed several of the most recent ones.

After seeing them, she was struck by more confusion. The medical officer who recorded the logs had referred to her as 'the Jedi'.

Selyn pushed herself away from the computer. She was no Jedi, not anymore. Perhaps never had been. But more logically, she reminded herself as she calmed again, how did they discover that she had been a Jedi? Did they recognize her from a decade ago…?

She pushed the unwelcome thoughts away again. The decade had been spent in trying to forget. But it was still a struggle, every single day, some days more than others.

The kolto was drying from her skin and clothes, but she was getting colder again by the minute. Deciding she'd waited long enough, she went across the hall, and found herself in a morgue. A sickeningly well-filled morgue.

What had happened? This was clearly a bad place to be. She shivered and not just from the freezing cold.

All the dead people appeared to be workers of some kind, miners perhaps. Except one – an old woman, shrouded in a brown robe. She glanced at her curiously, but turned away.

There, on the floor, was something she could use. She picked it up; it was a small plasma cutter. While the dead appeared to be dead of burns, having something to defend herself against whatever killed them would be a slight comfort.

"Did you find what you are looking for, here among the dead?" came a voice behind her, and Selyn squeaked and whirled, holding the plasma cutter in front of her as a knife.

The old woman had stood.

"You are alive?" Selyn managed cautiously. Zombies weren't real, not that she had encountered anyway. Still, hadn't the old woman been dead?

"I am, and so are you, fortunately."

"Do you know where we are?"

"I do not. You had better go out and look around, though I do not believe there will be much alive to greet you."

"I agree," Selyn said, her breathing beginning to return to normal. "Who are you?"

"You may call me Kreia, Exile."

Selyn looked strangely at the woman. "My name is Selyn. Selyn Tekeri. Why do you call me Exile?"

"Because that is what you are."

Selyn shook her head. "It is true, I am, but please don't call me that." Kreia only smiled mysteriously.

"I'm… going to look around. Will you come?"

"I will stay here. Do as you please. I will help you as I can."

Selyn looked at her curiously, but the old woman knelt on the floor in an uncomfortably familiar manner and payed her no more attention.

Selyn left the room, used the plasma cutter to cut the lock on the door to the rest of the facility – why would they lock the medical rooms up? – and ventured down hallways until she came to a chamber with another desk in it. Looking at the logs on this computer, she found that the security officer of this mining operation was paranoid, especially around droids. And that must be his body, next to the desk, stinking. He had a sword in hand, and Selyn picked it up, wove through a few steps of Shii-Cho. It was more familiar to her than the plasma cutter.

"They are in the next room," came a disembodied voice in her mind, and Selyn jumped and spun, looking for Kreia.

"Who is?" she demanded, alarmed. How was she hearing- it couldn't be-

"The droids who killed this one. You can feel that they are, can you not?"

She paused. There was a breath, a thought, something she had not felt in a long time…

"No!" she cried. "I don't want this! Not again… not ever again…" But it was already too late. If she was hearing the voice of her new companion in her mind…

"Do not fight it," Kreia's voice droned soothingly. "It is all right. Continue."

Selyn shook her head hard. This was no time to think about the implications and consequences. She opened the door.

There were three droids there, and when they saw her, they began to fire mining lasers at her. She ducked and dodged forwards, cutting them to pieces. They were slow, for mining, not for combat. Her reflexes were not so dull that they'd be able to stop her easily.

And now that she felt that ethereal whisper… the faintest ghost of that power she'd once borne… She couldn't yet tell if it was an aid or a distraction, but already her reflexes seemed sharper.

She stood over them, breathing slightly harder with her exertion. It was back. She had not wished for it back, had wished for it never to come back. She had been glad it was gone.

Having it back would only expose herself to her own pain. It was dulled, worn, old, but never forgotten, though every day she fought to move past it. It had been ten years. Perhaps she never would.

.

She peeked into the next room, and found it a large one. On her right, there seemed to be something promising. She watched for the short-sighted droids and crept up a ramp to a control panel looking out onto a magnificent view of space and an asteroid field.

The terminal was very helpful. There was a command program there that shut down the droids, a command program that would open certain protected doors, a communications system – still locked, but her programming skills were not inconsiderable – and information.

She was on the mining colony of Peragus, which was less a colony and more a business operation, built into the side of a volatile planetoid full of Peragian fuel. Whatever disturbance had killed the people in the morgue, it had only begun three days ago… the same time that she had arrived, unconscious, in a battered freighter with an astromech droid and Kreia, who was presumed dead at the time.

Very odd.

Now that the droids were offline, she could move about more freely, without fear of them. After a brief look into the glory of space, she turned away and went to look more on that floor. Once she had exhausted all the possibilities on that floor, she would see if the communications system yielded better results.

And clothes would be nice. Her underwear was designed for comfort and durability, hardly flattering, and left her midriff bare. It was still freezing when she wasn't fighting, and if she met anyone in this state… She hadn't felt embarrassment in years, but she remembered well what it felt like, and had no wish to feel it so soon on her return to known space.

"Someone is alive in there," Kreia spoke suddenly, as Selyn looked towards a door that had been shielded until she had shut down the protected doors. "Be careful – his thoughts are… difficult to read. But you have nothing to fear from this one, and he might prove useful…"

Selyn headed for the door. Answers were more important than decency. Perhaps the person would be helpful in finding her clothes.

The door slid open, and she saw a scruffy, dark-haired man in a force-cage cell. He whistled.

.

 _Bored. Bored, bored, bored. And hungry. And thirsty. The room service in this place is simply awful._

He heard the shield on the door die. Someone was still out there, at least, which meant they were the absolute worst, locking him up and then starving him on purpose. Even if he did violate regulations – which was highly improbable, really – it didn't warrant starvation.

The door slid open almost silently, and he looked up and saw… not quite a vision of beauty, but a very pretty woman, maybe his own age. In her underwear. He whistled in appreciation. "Ni~ice. You guys change the uniform since I was last out and about?"

Which was the first thing anyone would notice, but he saw a bit more than that. Her black hair went down to her chin, but it was damp. _Bath? Kolto tank? Probably kolto_. What's more, her muscle tone would be the envy of many, but her skin was covered in old, fading scars. And the way she held the sword…

Jedi. Definitely Jedi. Probably in at least one of the recent wars.

But she was the first person to open the door in three days, and his stomach was collapsing in on itself. If she used her Jedi powers to spring him out of here, he didn't care if she was the Jedi Grandmaster himself. Or herself. _Did they still have a Grandmaster?_ Anyway, he could always ditch her later. Before she found out who he was.

She blinked in confusion at the teasing he'd given her, and he looked up into calm, curious brown eyes. Did he say she wasn't a vision of beauty? Maybe not, still. But she was just plain beautiful. Even her Jedi-ness didn't detract from it, only gave her an aura of strength and serenity that was enthralling. He was going to have to be careful that he didn't fall for her.

She was saying something already while he was busy having his universe shifted, just slightly, and he forced himself to pay attention. "Who are you?"

Jedi were so innocent, and it looked like she was no exception. "Atton. Atton Rand. 'Scuse me if I don't shake hands. The field only causes mild electrical burns. And you?"

She nodded. "Selyn Tekeri. What are you doing here in the first place?" Se- General Tekeri. Really? General Tekeri was here? In the middle of nowhere, in her underwear.

He should have recognized her, he'd seen plenty of holos of her, but she was older, of course, and he really wasn't expecting a blast from _that_ part of his past, here and now. _Play it cool, Rand. You can still get her to let you out_.

He rolled his eyes and snorted. "Security claims I violated some stupid regulation or another. I don't even care. They stopped listening to me shortly before they stopped feeding me, which was like three days ago, when that supposed Jedi showed up. Speaking of which, you don't happen to have…"

She shook her head. _Damn_. "I haven't found anything like food yet. Or clothes, obviously. Or people. It seems like everyone's dead. What was that about a Jedi?"

 _It's you, stupid_. Or maybe not so stupid. It was a good attempt. She didn't know that he knew, and he'd try to keep it that way. "Don't know for sure, but there were plenty of rumours flying all over the station within an hour of that ship docking. But you know what Jedi mean. The Republic's gonna be all over the place in no time. And then some of the miners get it into their ferrocrete skulls that they should cash in on the bounty the Exchange has out for live Jedi, since this one's unconscious. Security took a pretty dim view of that idea, and there was some kind of fight. I haven't heard much for a while since they stuck me in here. It's been pretty quiet for a while. Then you showed up in your underwear and things got a lot better. You said everyone's dead?"

"Everyone I've seen so far has been dead," she answered quietly. "Everyone except you, me, and a woman named Kreia."

"Don't know her," he grunted.

"What can you tell me about this place? It's called Peragus?"

He looked at her incredulously. "How do you not know where you are?" he scoffed. "This slice of paradise is Peragus, yes. The only supplier of engine fuel to this little corner of the galaxy, at least since the Jedi Civil War."

"The… Jedi Civil War?" she said, looking shocked. "What's that?"

He looked at her even more incredulously. "Yeah, the Jedi Civil War. You know, that thing that happened after the Mandalorian Wars? Revan and Malak and the Jedi that followed them to war decided to take over the galaxy and almost succeeded. Where've you been?"

"I-I've been… away… since the end of that war," she stammered.

"I guess that's understandable." General Tekeri had disappeared after that final battle; he'd heard no word of her during the Jedi Civil War, and most people had assumed she was dead. She'd gone hermit instead?

The Mandalorian War had left its scars on most people, himself included. He could understand.

He really wished he could sit down in this force-cage, and not on the floor. On a chair. She didn't look like she was going to let him out yet, but he could probably convince eventually if he answered all her questions. And it looked like she was going to have a lot. "Let's see… right after the Mandalorians surrendered, two of the Republic's strongest generals and the Jedi's strongest knights, Revan and Malek, went evil and tried to take over the galaxy. Then I heard they turned on each other. He tried to kill her, she survived and went back to the Republic and destroyed him, even though he had some kind of superforce at his disposal. Don't mess with Jedi women, that's all I can say. Not that there's many left."

He watched her carefully while pretending not to. She was – or had been – General Tekeri, the right-hand strategist of Revan. What did she think of hearing them falling to the Dark Side?

Her reaction was small, but he caught it. She was disturbed, at the very least. "Was she… still a Sith when she did?"

"Considering the Republic made her into a hero again, I doubt it. Good thing too. Dark Jedi are bad enough, but when a woman falls to the Dark Side, you better space yourself before she shows up. But anyway she's disappeared, they say."

"I wonder why," she said softly to herself.

He looked at her for a long moment as she stood quietly, her focus inward. Her self control was remarkable; he could hardly see the confusion and turmoil. And she had pretty nice curves to go with all the toned muscle.

She turned towards him again. "Why did you say there's not many left? Did so many die in the… Civil War? Why is it called the Civil War?"

"Yeah, it was Jedi against Jedi, right? Religious infighting across the whole galaxy. And afterwards, I heard a lot of them switched off the lightsabers. Hard to find a one these days. Word is there isn't even a Jedi Council anymore. Which is good, I guess, because the Exchange has a bounty out for 'em."

Now her surprise was more evident. "You said that before. Why would the Exchange have a bounty on Jedi?"

"Beats me. Maybe one of them is looking for revenge for something or other. At this point, it wouldn't surprise me if the bounty is pretty high. But hey, not like your half-naked interrogation isn't a personal fantasy of mine or anything…" She blushed. Adorable. "…but you're the Jedi the miners were talking about, aren't you?"

"I am no Jedi. Once, perhaps, but no longer."

He sighed. "That's a shame, could really use a Jedi's help in getting out of this mess." His tone and face turned sheepish. "Hey – look. Let me out of here and I'll help you. I can! I've gotten out of trouble countless times."

She observed him carefully, the faintest frown of concentration on her face. He kept his own face as honest as he could, trying to meet her eyes, even though staring at her chest would be a big help right now. He counted cards instead. "It's true, I haven't met anyone else here yet. I'll let you out."

"Thanks." He had to smile in relief, and to his surprise and gratification, she smiled back as she crossed the room to the force-cage controls.

She really was beautiful.

"And if you try anything, I'll cut your hands off," she said, tapping her swordpoint on the floor meaningfully. Beautiful and fierce. He really was going to have to watch himself.

He held up said hands in a placating gesture. "As if I would. I happen to be a gentleman, you know."

"There isn't a spare change of clothes in here, is there? It's really freezing on this station."

She was cold, and he was hungry. They'd make a great team! "Not that I know of. Not like they have a special outfit for prisoners." …A real gentleman would give her his jacket. Too bad he was only a sort-of gentleman.

.

So war had come to the galaxy yet again, Selyn mused as she explored onwards on her own. She had heard things, yes, something about the Sith. She had done so much running in the last ten years. She had avoided listening to anything associated with war.

He'd looked at her like she was an idiot, rendering her more embarrassed than when she'd noticed he was staring blatantly at her chest. It was too bad, because he was kind of handsome. She blinked at that thought. It was an irrelevant thought.

"Find anything good?" Atton's voice crackled over the commlink from the comm centre.

"A few things… a medpack, some survey gear…"

She looked deeper in the crate and found a full-body jumpsuit with lots of pockets for tools and gear. "And clothes, oh good." Finally, she wouldn't freeze to death, and it would be slightly more protection against scratches and scrapes than her bare skin was.

"Dammit!" she heard a faint swear from the comm. Then his voice came back stronger, closer to the mic. "I mean, good. It's, uh, distracting. For the droids. Uh, anyway, I've been checking out the droid signals, and you've got a couple dozen down there with you. You better be careful."

"Thank you, Atton, I will," and she couldn't help the laugh that crept into her voice at his teasing.

.

She looked inside, and there he was. He was looking at the computer, and abruptly he did a double-take. She saw him raise his hand to his mouth and his voice crackled into her ear.

"Uh, I'm getting some strange readings. According to this, you're on the exterior of the station."

"Look up," she said sweetly, and he did, and she laughed at his reaction.

"Are you crazy?" he seethed. "That fuel is venting right across your path. It's not supposed to be, but it is. You're trapped; you'll get burned if you try to walk through it."

"I know. But…"

She never got a chance to complete her sentence as she felt suddenly cold again, and not because of the emptiness of the vacuum.

Atton's hands were dancing along the control panel. "Ship coming in to dock. Big one… Oh, a Republic… war cruiser. Uh, good or not good?"

"Not good," she whispered. "It's the Harbinger…"

"And…?"

"I was on that ship before I became unconscious. Based on hints a strange protocol droid gave me, terrible things happened on that ship while I was unconscious."

Atton was silent for a long moment as the diamond-headed ship drew closer to them. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Selyn looked at the bridge viewports of the Harbinger, and a stronger chill ran down her spine, and suddenly, unbidden, she had a vision. A vision of something that should not live, kneeling in meditation amidst a sea of bodies in Republic uniform, on that bridge.

"So do I," she answered softly.

.

The visions were true, mostly. Every cabin and corridor on the ship was strewn with bodies, all in Republic uniform. Some had expressions of fear frozen on their faces, but most looked blank or surprised, as if they hadn't even seen their death coming. There were few signs of combat, too - hardly any scorch marks on the walls, and in some areas the personnel hadn't even drawn weapons. They'd been brutally assassinated.

And the assassins were still present. More than once her senses tingled, just barely, and she would spin just in time to block a knife thrust from stealth-cloaked men in black and silver garb who fought silently and died silently. For once they were revealed, they were not quite as skilled as she and her companions were. But the ambushes made her nervous, and with her control and sense of the Force as weak as it was... She took to sending Atton first; even though he seemed just as alert and twitchy as she was, he didn't have the Force, he couldn't sense danger even as poorly as she could. She didn't want him to get stabbed in the back. Kreia showed no sign of alarm, her mouth pressed into an unchanging grim line.

The bridge was as she'd seen it in her mind's eye, dark and bloodstained, but the monster she'd sensed was not there. The stink of death was worse here, and she tried not to breathe through her nose as she accessed the navicomputer for the asteroid charts they'd need to escape the system. She'd seen death like this before, a long time ago, and while she didn't want to see it again, her body did not freeze in horror as it might once have done, moving smoothly, doing exactly what she asked of it. She hated that it was so easy, though it brought up thoughts long buried; anxious, too, that such thoughts were so self-centred while a hundred people lay dead around her. She couldn't process the dissonance between body and mind, even between the layers of her mind, and finished her task as quickly as she could and without looking at the dead crew.

They had to move to the lowest level of the ship to reach their goal, on the way stopping by her former quarters so she could retrieve what was left of her belongings. Then they descended. Half the lights here were dead, and the corridor was extremely dark. They were halfway down the length of the ship when she felt creeping hatred behind her, and turned.

There, stepping out of the turbolift, was the horrific monster she'd seen in her vision. Tall, strong, with grey skin cracked like parched earth, and one eye blank and white at the centre of a massive cratering scar. He was like a zombie from a folk tale, yet her senses told her that he lived, and breathed, and hated. He was overflowing with hate, darkness poisoning the air around him, reaching out to her to draw her into its sickening coils. She had never met anything, anyone in all her experience like this. _There is no emotion, there is only peace_. And yet even her peace was shaken in the face of such violent power.

The Sith paced towards the three of them. "I came to warn you, Jedi." The voice was deep, like a massive stone dragged across gravel. "You know not what path you walk."

Kreia turned back. "This battle is mine alone. I am not defenseless. He cannot kill what he cannot see, and power has blinded him long ago. Run. I shall be along shortly."

"Kre-" she began, and stopped. Kreia was already walking resolutely towards the Sith; she passed a door and it slid shut.

She could have run back and opened the door. Kreia hadn't locked it.

But an old woman would not have stayed behind to fight to no purpose. If she meant to delay him with her life, she would not have assured them she would follow. Would she? No. She barely knew Kreia, yet somehow she knew she wouldn't need saving, that disobeying her order would help nothing and hurt greatly.

"Let's go," she murmured to Atton, and he nodded and followed as she began to jog in the opposite direction.

Why did that Sith Lord's voice sound familiar to her?

.

They were almost at the entrance to the fuel line when pain engulfed her left hand. She gasped and cried out.

"What? What's wrong?" Atton demanded, turning towards her instantly. She gripped her hand, pressing it against her chest in a futile effort to dull the pain. The man reached out towards her hesitantly as she leaned against the wall, gritting her teeth. She was surprised to catch such concern in his face. She wouldn't have thought he would care so much, so soon, for her well-being.

"My hand… I don't know what's happening."

"Dammit, don't quit on me now, we're almost there…" He was hiding his anxiety under gruffness, she could tell, and he put an arm around her and pulled her along. The pain began to fade and she straightened up and began to move at a more suitable speed.

"I think… I think something happened to Kreia."

He looked at her strangely. "How do you know?"

"I just do."

"I thought you said you weren't a Jedi."

"I'm not!" she said desperately. "I'm not a Jedi. I can't feel the Force… It's an illusion…"

He grunted. "We'll figure it out later. For now, let's keep running. Come on!"

.

"So, what happened?" he asked, as she went to look up where this Telos system was. They'd escaped the Harbinger, escaped Peragus - barely - before the Harbinger had turned its guns on them, destroying the entire asteroid belt behind them just as they fled to hyperspace. Perhaps the Harbinger was destroyed as well, and yet she doubted such a powerful Sith would simply die so easily. Kreia had returned at the last moment, and her left hand had been severed. She was now recuperating in one of the dorms.

Selyn paused and turned back to him. "To what?"

"Don't give me that. Where's your lightsaber? I thought Jedi were supposed to be married to their weapon?"

"I'm not a Jedi."

"I know, you keep saying that."

"And I don't know who started that saying, but it's not true." She wanted to explain more, but he probably didn't care.

He rolled his eyes. She could tell. "I know you had one, where'd it go?"

"I... left it behind. I don't want to talk about it." What had she been doing? She couldn't remember. Absently, she poked the computer without really seeing it.

"All right." He was silent for about five seconds before he turned back around to her and began again. "What colour was it? Blue? Green? ...It wasn't red, was it?"

She smiled a little and took a couple steps towards him to make the distance more conversational. "Silver, like the streams in the Room of a Thousand Fountains in the Temple on Coruscant."

"Poetic," he said. "Single or double blade?"

"Single blade. I was pretty classically trained. I can use a double-blade, I can dual-wield… but I prefer… preferred a single blade."

"I bet you were good. You're pretty good with a vibrosword, but with a lightsaber you might make those Sith think twice before attacking us."

"It doesn't matter," she said distantly. "It was taken from me a long time ago… and perhaps it would just drive them to hunt me harder." She shook herself, came back to the task at hand. "What's our ETA for Telos?" She'd forgotten to look it up entirely.

"Eighteen hours. You might want to catch some sleep. As soon as everything's taken care of here, I'm certainly getting some."

She nodded and smiled. "Good idea. I'll see you later, Atton."

.

She slept for twelve of those hours. She had been worn out from the running, the fighting, and recovering from whatever had happened to her while she was unconscious, including having her kolto tank poisoned. Exile was much more uneventful than this.

She rose refreshed, dressed in a robe from the bag she had retrieved from her room on the Harbinger, and searched for the 'fresher on the little freighter. She showered, for the first time in ages – why hadn't Atton complained about the smell? He was blunt enough to. She felt a lot better, and took some time afterwards braiding the sides of her black hair, to keep it back from her face. She stared at herself in the mirror as she did so. She was only thirty-five, but her brown eyes were growing wrinkles at the corners and her eyes had shadows under them nearly permanently. One would think being on vacation for ten years would fix that.

She went to her shower kit and pulled out three silver hair clips to keep her braids in place. While Revan was practical with her hair and face, always putting her dark hair in a rough ponytail and never wearing make-up, Selyn liked to be pretty sometimes.

She finished with her hair and went to the cockpit, but Atton was sleeping there, lolled back in the pilot's chair with his mouth hanging open. He snored.

She smiled gently. She rather liked him. He was more complicated than Kreia gave him credit for, or perhaps Kreia thought him beneath her notice because she disliked his surface. Selyn wasn't sure.

But she left him, and went to check on Kreia again. She had done so the day before, at Atton's urging. He certainly cared more about Kreia than Kreia cared about him, although she didn't think the concern extended to liking or affection.

Kreia was waiting for her. "You have many questions, do you not?"

"Yes," Selyn responded hesitantly. "I… why can I feel the Force again?"

"I do not know," Kreia said. "It is a mystery to me as much as to you. A mystery, as well, is this bond we share."

"You seem to know who I am," Selyn said. "Almost better than I do, myself. How is that? You feel the Force, don't you? Is that how?"

"I do, and there is much I can teach you, if you will let me."

"I…" Selyn stopped and shook her head anxiously. "I don't want the Force. I don't want to be a Jedi. It's not… I'm not one."

"If you feel the Force, you will use it, trained or not," Kreia said sharply. "It is better to use it trained than not. You will need my help. Am I correct in that you have never had an official Master?"

"Master Kavar…" Selyn began defensively.

"Master Kavar was not your true Master," Kreia said. "He may have taught you something, and you may have shared a connection, but I know. Do not ask me how. You have never had a Master."

"I don't want one," Selyn said. She did not want to contradict the proud old woman, and she hated to cross anyone, but everything told her she did not want the Force. "I – Kreia, the Force was taken from me for a reason. Several reasons. It's bad enough dealing with the pain as an ordinary Force-less human. With that sensitivity…"

"Are you a coward?"

Selyn caught her breath with a hiss. "No. But you weren't there. Were you? That battle was… too terrible to go back to. My life is tied to Malachor more than to the Force. It is difficult enough. Can we please stop talking about it?"

"It is too late," Kreia said inexorably. "You already feel the Force again. It is a whisper, but it will grow."

"It will grow to a scream," Selyn said.

"No," Kreia said. "The Force in the galaxy will grow to a scream. What was set in motion that day is still echoing through the galaxy. But the Force in you… ah, that is a different matter."

"I do not have hope for myself," Selyn said. "I have wandered a long time, and did not see many people. Now that I am back, I want to help people any way that I can. To give them hope again. To begin, even in the smallest way, to atone for the things I have done. But I have no hope for myself. And yet I know that is a danger, because I do not wish to fall to the Dark Side… and despair is of the Dark Side…"

"We will speak more of that later," Kreia said. "For now, you must learn to accept this touch of the Force that has been granted again to you. You will deal with the pain. You are strong enough."

Selyn stood. "Thank you for your confidence in me, Kreia." She hesitated. "I don't know why you help me, but… thank you."

.

He'd just woken up again and taken his boots off the console. The ship was still on course and they only had a couple hours left until Telos. If only the dumb navicomputer wasn't voice-locked. Selyn had had to ask the trash compactor to program our destination in for us, which meant as long as they used this ship, they had to take it with them. Joy. And if they hadn't run across it in the empty fuel line, they would have never been able to leave. Even more joy.

He heard Selyn enter the cockpit. "'Sup?" he drawled as she entered and sat primly on the co-pilot's chair. He glanced over at her, taking in what she'd done to her hair. "Nice hair."

"Thank you," she said. "How close are we?"

"Still two hours. Make yourself comfortable. How's the old lady?"

"She is doing surprisingly well," she said. "I hope we can get her proper medical treatment on Telos, but for now she is holding up well. In fact, she is more interested in my mental well-being."

"Why's that? You seem relatively sane. For a Jedi."

"I'm not a Jedi," she said patiently, and he grinned. But then she frowned. "Except that… she's concerned because I can feel the Force again."

He looked at her, frowning back. "What do you mean?" _Why 'again'?_

"I couldn't feel it for a long time," she said. "My connection was… cut, somehow. But yesterday, on Peragus, I began to feel it again." She looked out into the blue of hyperspace, an anxious look crossing her face. "I don't want to feel it again."

"Why not? Get all your superpowers back, and you won't have to worry about the Sith much anymore."

She smiled. "I do not share the arrogant opinion that a Jedi is a match for all Sith just because a Jedi is of the Light." _Ha, no, really? That's a new one._ "But no, it's because… actually, I don't want to talk about it. Please believe me when I say I don't want any part of it again."

"You're really weird," he grunted. What kind of Jedi didn't want power, light or dark? But… that was a good thing, wasn't it? For him, anyway. Less chance of her digging in his head, of finding out more than she needed to know. Speaking of which… "Anyway, don't get too fond of me, I don't like it."

She smiled charmingly, as if she didn't believe him. _Oh frak, she was cute when she did that._ How a thirty-five-year-old woman managed to be cute was behind him.

"I mean it! First chance I get, I'm out and off to the Nar Shaddaa red district. You helped me and I helped you; as far as I know, we're even."

"I believe you, and we are even," she said calmly.

"No you don't," he muttered.

"I won't hold you. Go wherever you wish. But it was nice to meet you."

"I'm not leaving this second," he muttered.

"Don't pout, Atton."

"Yes, Mom."

She laughed. He shut up.

After a long silence, he turned to her again, an impish grin of his own on his face. "So, we've got two hours. Do you play pazaak?"

Her face brightened up. "I do! Do you have cards?"

He produced some from an inner pocket of his jacket with a flourish. "Right here. You don't happen to have any, do you?"

She shook her head. "I lost mine a few months ago."

"Lost yours? That's bad luck, isn't it? No wonder the Sith are after you."

"Is it? I just thought it was unfortunate. May I borrow some of yours?"

"All right. And just so you know, I'm out of credits, so it's Republic Senate rules."

"That is fine by me. Thank you." She accepted a random deal of ten from his side-deck, and he dealt the first card.


	3. Part 3: Silver

Part 3: Silver

.

"Grab on to something!" Atton yelled back into the hold of the shuttle. "This is about to get rough real fast!"

Heart beating slightly faster, Selyn took hold of the hand grips by her seat, her restraints fastened tightly. They were being fired upon as they flew over the partially restored surface of Telos. Who, what, why, no way to find out, only to trust in Atton's skill and hope they survived. It reminded her strongly of how she'd felt when she'd been dropped on- no, best not to think about that. She concentrated on her breathing instead.

She felt the ship kick forward with a small explosion, heard Atton curse, felt gravity begin to assert its hold on the shuttle…

.

She came to with her face in the grass, feeling like she'd just been in a three-round match with a wampa… and had lost every time. Carefully, she shifted her head, then her arms, then tried to push herself up. She made it to a sitting position and decided to take a break.

The shuttle was a smouldering, twisted wreck about twenty meters away, smack in the middle of a narrow valley. Kreia was lying beside her, still breathing, and Selyn could not tell whether the aches she felt were her own or Kreia's, but neither of them were terribly injured.

In the last two weeks, they'd made it to Citadel Station at Telos, where they were temporarily detained under suspicion of destroying Peragus, then placed under house arrest. Meanwhile, the Ebon Hawk had been stolen, and rumour had reached Selyn that it was on Telos' surface. When the Ithorian leader on the station, Chodo Habat, had offered her use of their shuttle to search for the Hawk, she had taken it, despite the face that they were all technically still under house arrest. She feared too much the Sith would be close behind her if she stayed too long.

And now they had been shot down over a Czerka-controlled restoration zone. Highly suspicious, but ultimately not that surprising.

Where was Atton? How did they get out of the shuttle? Alarmed, Selyn pushed herself shakily to her feet, but at that moment, a figure emerged from the shuttle, carrying Atton in a firefighter's carry. It was a beige-skinned Zabrak, with a prosthetic arm, and he dumped Atton gently down beside Kreia before he straightened and turned to Selyn with a slight smile. "Good to have you back, General."

Selyn's mind reeled. Who was he? How did he-? He must have been under her command, back when- But he- "What happened?" she managed to say without stammering.

"Easy now," he said, holding out a hand in a calming gesture, his voice soft and even. "You just survived one spectacular crash. Good thing I was here to pull you and your friends out of the wreck or you'd all be more than a little crispy right now. But it's only fair. I owe you more than one, General."

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"You must be in shock from the crash, or forgot me over the last decade." He glanced at a small droid floating at his shoulder. "Too bad she's not a droid, huh?" The droid booped and beeped in response. "We can't all be that lucky." He looked back at her. "I'll humour you, General. I was one of the Iridonian mechanic corps at Malachor. Bao-Dur? I can see why you might forget me, I was the only Zabrak."

She moved quickly past the feeling of ice-water down her spine. He was the one who- "I remember you. But don't ever call me General again. Selyn will be fine."

His eyes were sad. "I understand. I don't like talking about the war much either. We all went through some tough times afterwards, and maybe we all did a little forgetting." His droid nuzzled him. "Guess that's one thing we've got better than droids – they can't forget anything. At least until you give them a memory wipe, and then they forget for good." The droid beeped.

Selyn crouched down beside Kreia. "Are the others going to be all right?"

"I believe so. The pilot is unharmed, and the old lady… well, she's tougher than she looks." He crouched across from her, his non-human face unreadable. "I have to say, never thought I'd see you again. The Galaxy's a big place, and this is the last place I thought I'd bump into you."

"I was told my ship was somewhere on Telos," Selyn explained. "It was stolen from me a week ago. Chodo Habat told me to look out for you and to ask if you would help me find it."

Bao-Dur gave another slight smile. "I will do my best. Though if your ship's in as bad a shape as this one, I don't think you're going to have much luck. I came out here hoping to repair this one, but not even I can salvage this pile of scrap into a flyable ship."

"I understand," Selyn said, and then Atton and Kreia began to recover.

.

 _What a day._ Hiking for hours across Telos on foot, stealing a shuttle from Czerka, flying out to the pole only to be shot down _again_ , this time by a too-smug scrap pile with a missile launcher, and now imprisoned by these weird creepy white-haired, white-eyed, white-clothed women who did not look like they had a sense of humour.

"Why is it that everywhere we go, I end up in a cell?" he complained, stuck for the third time this month in a force cage. His only consolation was that the old bat was locked up beside him and not running loose. But then the Zabrak, who seemed to know Selyn somehow and didn't seem all that bad a guy, was locked up _and_ unconscious on the other side of her. And the white women had taken Selyn somewhere. "I mean, why did they lock us up? What is this place?"

"It is a training ground, for Jedi," Kreia responded, as cold as the polar wind.

"What, this ice hole?" Seriously? Well, it didn't look military, that was for sure… and it didn't look like anything else familiar, so… she could be right. It certainly wasn't an irrigation center or whatever it was supposed to be in official records.

"Yes, it bears the semblance of an academy… but where are the students? Curious." Well, yeah. Wait, so the white women weren't students?

He snorted. "You've gotta be joking. What's a Jedi Academy doing way out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"It is a place hidden from the galaxy, like the academy on Dantooine. But this place… oh, Atris… you have been clever."

The familiar way she said that… " _Atris?_ "

"It's none of your concern."

Fine. He didn't care anyway. He had bigger things to worry about. "Well, the sooner we're outta here, the better. Two crazy Jedi are more than enough for me. No one told me we were going to be dumped in a nest of 'em."

Kreia slowly turned her hooded gaze to him and he began to sweat. "And what is it about this place that causes you such fear?"

He panicked under that unseen stare. "What do you mean? We're in the middle of a bunch of Jedi. You know how they are." Sithspawn. That was his foot squarely in his mouth. Even Selyn would have known he was lying.

"No, I do not… not in the way you seem to." Her voice trailed off.

And he felt something – someone – a feeling he'd hoped never to feel again, working in from the outside, though his thoughts, through his feelings – _Sithspawn! – two and five is seven, plus three is ten, minus-_ "What… what are you doing!? Get out of my head!" He clutched at his head as if he could physically block her creepy old-lady mind-tendrils from probing his brain, but it was too late to shield anything, and in his shaken state, he didn't have the presence of mind, the willpower, to shut her out, not when she was already in.

"Stop struggling…" she said, her voice almost mystical in its detachment, in her concentration. "Let me follow the current, deep… deeper… to its source."

No! She was almost – his memories were flickering, at her whim, to the front of his brain, physical pain boiling up to match the mental pain. "Stop! St- ahhh!"

"Ah, with the fear… is mingled guilt… it squirms in you like a worm." He hardly heard her contemptuous voice over the humiliation tunneling his vision. "And the why… ah, and there is its heart." He could hardly breathe, his throat closing off. He felt lightheaded.

She chuckled mirthlessly, the laugh of someone who has all the power and knows exactly what they're going to do with it. "You surprise me. I could not feel it before… your feelings are a powerful shield, indeed." Her voice became mockingly comforting. "Do not worry, 'Atton'. If she is a Jedi, she will forgive. And if she is not, she will not care."

Oh, she'd care. She'd care, all right. And she was kind, but to just assume her forgiveness extended that far… "You can't tell her," he… he begged, still drowning in images from the past, horrific twisted things he'd carefully buried when he changed his name. "Please- I'm asking you. I don't want her to…"

"Think less of you? I hardly think that's possible." Now she was just trying to jab him – and it worked, to his chagrin. "Still, there is no shame in what you ask. We all wage war with the past. And it leaves its scars. I will not speak of yours, Atton, but there is a price for such things."

His voice rose incredulously. "What? What price?"

Kreia's thin voice felt like a knife in the ribs. "There are those who wage war, and those who follow them. You are a crude thing, murderer, but you have your uses." As if he were no more than a tool. He wondered if Selyn knew this side of the old woman. Somehow he didn't think so. "You know how important this woman we travel with is – even one such as you can feel it. You will serve her… until I release you."

He considered, then straightened up and glared at her. "And if I refuse?"

"You will not," Kreia said with final certainty. "If you do, then my silence will be broken. And then you, Atton, will be broken. You fear the Jedi, and rightly so. If Atris learns of your… choices, you will never leave this place. But whatever fear you hold of the Jedi, know that if you disobey me, that my punishment will make you beg for the death that has long hounded you." Well, damn. She wasn't lying, and the mind-sifting he'd just been through backed that up completely. Her thin lips smiled mockingly. "Wipe the fear from your mind. You will not find blind obedience a difficult Master… you chose it once. You will learn to embrace it again."

He scowled in her general direction. "I don't know how you became such a manipulative witch, but why a vicious old scow like you would even bother with me is a bigger mystery."

"No game of dejarik can be won without pawns… and this may prove to be a very long game. You are a slippery one, your thoughts difficult for even one such as I to read. I suspect the self-loathing that squirms within you gives you a curious strength. Your spirit, as diseased as it is, refuses to allow you to give up, no matter what threats you face… and whatever wreckage you leave behind you." His face burned, but his core felt cold as vacuum. It was true, all of it. He would fight tooth and nail to survive, screw anyone who got in his way… and he hated himself for it. His life was a self-perpetuating cycle of ruthlessness and cowardice that meant he'd be atoning for it well into the afterlife. At least… at least he didn't enjoy it anymore, right? That had to be a step forward, right?

He'd have to hide all this carefully, so carefully from Selyn. No hints, better lying, and most importantly, to get away as soon as he could. She hadn't probed his brain yet… but she would, sooner or later. If she was a Jedi like everyone except her claimed, she would do it. Which was too bad. He kind of liked her. That is, she talked to him mostly like a normal person, even if she was annoyingly placid and still so dedicated to Jedi ways it was painful to see. But she didn't treat him like scum, or a creep, or a one-night stand – although that wouldn't be so bad – wait, yes it would. But she took him seriously. It'd been a long time since anyone did that.

It would be really nice if she proved the exception and didn't try to read his mind before he managed to get away from this craziness. That she'd… remember him as a decent sentient being, not the… monster… from his past… Why did he even care? Would she hunt him down? He honestly couldn't say, at this point.

Kreia was still talking for some reason. "I feel you have crossed our path for a reason… perhaps even you, at the right moment, may be able to turn aside disaster. If so, your potential is not yet spent."

He couldn't see any way out. "Fine. I'll be your pawn. But I still think you've got the wrong man."

"Perhaps. But someone has to fly the ship." Was… was that almost a joke? Or – no, she was back on the tool thing. "And the Force is a hard thing to predict. You have crossed our path for a reason. Our path brought us here for a reason… and now I know why. The past is here, and it must be met before the future can be set in motion."

"More Jedi speak," he muttered. "Care to explain?"

"No – I have wasted enough time with you. Sleep, murderer – and be silent. I need no distractions." He felt his eyes closing and a great weight on his mind, and he tumbled to the floor.

.

Selyn was brought into a grey, cold, empty room shaped in imitation of the Council chamber on Coruscant. The centre was dimly lit, the illumination barely reaching to the edges of the vast chamber. Ahead, a long walkway stretched up and across an abyss to a great door; the door opened, revealing a gleam of red light, and a figure in plain white stepped through.

Selyn's hackles went up in anticipatory defensiveness and she forced herself to calm. Atris ever was the most abrasive of all the Masters, and she had been present, glowering, at Selyn's trial.

"I did not expect to see you again after the day of your sentencing. I thought you had taken the exile's path, wandering the galaxy. Yet you have returned – why?"

Selyn's voice remained quiet. "It was not my intention to come here, Atris – or to see you again."

"Yet here you are," Atris said tartly. "Perhaps you do not know yourself as well as you think. Regardless, your arrival here begs an explanation. Have you come to face the judgement of the Council, as you did so many years ago? Are you finally willing to admit we were right to cast you out?"

Atris was about black and white, right and wrong, good and evil. It wasn't so simple for Selyn. When the Mandalorian Wars started, there was only one choice that made sense for her – to fight, to defend, to protect. With hindsight, she had no idea if it had been the right thing to do or not. No way to know how to learn from the past, except to try to make amends for the suffering she had caused, by helping everyone she could and trying not to break everything she touched. The second part was much harder when she wasn't shunning civilization.

One thing the Council had gotten right. She was no Jedi any longer. But she wasn't going to let Atris have the satisfaction of knowing that, not with the arrogant way she asked. "I'm not here to debate the Council's decision."

Atris took her answer naturally as submission. "Indeed? Very well. Your exile has given you some wisdom, at least. I will never forget that day. Your words, your defiance… when you stabbed your lightsaber into the stone."

Selyn frowned. Was Atris trying to goad her? To prove herself right? "I am already defined too much by my past. I will not be defined by my long-gone lightsaber."

"Your legacy is already defined by it." Swiftly, she drew a lightsaber from her belt and ignited it. Silver blazed, like sunlight shining through water in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. And the design of the hilt…

"Why? Why would you keep it?"

"So I would never forget. I have always kept it, as a reminder of what can happen when your passions dictate your actions. I have kept it, so I would never forget your arrogance or your insult to the Order."

"Atris…" There was something buried deep there, something Selyn had no wish to touch. Atris had always been critical of everyone and everything, holding everyone to impossible standards, but this bitterness was not that. This was something personal, and whether it was directed at Selyn, for unintentionally betraying Atris, or at Atris herself, for… whatever reason, Selyn could not tell and dared not probe deeper. "I did not come here for that."

"So, then, answer me – how did you find this place? And why have you returned after all this time?"

"Tell me what you've done with my friends, first."

"Your concern has been noted… your friends have not been harmed. They have been detained for their safety." Atris tilted her head, looked at her suspiciously. "I find it… unusual… that you are traveling with others again. I thought you had forsaken the company of others after the war. Or is _that_ why you are here?"

"I'm looking for my ship so I can leave Telos."

"Your ship… Ah – the Ebon Hawk? It is not your ship. Unless you are admitting to the destruction of the Peragus mining facility."

"The destruction of Peragus was an accident."

"Ah… an accident," Atris said sarcastically, and Selyn hid the prick of anger that flashed through her. "Something beyond your control. You have not changed. Acting instead of thinking. Putting yourself before the galaxy, before the Jedi. Do you know what you have done?"

"I know I put Telos in jeopardy, but I had no choice."

"No, your crime is much more than that. Without the fuel from Peragus, Citadel Station cannot maintain its orbit. It will crash into the planet, and its destruction will echo across twenty other worlds."

"What do you mean?"

"Telos was a test, to see if the Republic could mount a restoration effort on the Outer Rim. When it fails, the Republic will not finance another. The other Rim worlds devestated by the Sith will remain graveyard worlds, devoid of life. And that is the magnitude of your crime."

That… made her feel worse. But it still wasn't entirely her fault. She didn't want to destroy anything. "But the Sith attacked me on Peragus – the battle destroyed the colony."

Atris paused in her ranting and looked at her cautiously with narrowed eyes. "The Sith? What do you mean?"

"The Sith came for me on Peragus, to kill me."

"You speak truly… you have encountered the Sith. I can feel the scars on you. And you encountered them on Peragus? But what would they want there? They can't have been looking for you."

"The Sith believe me to be the last Jedi."

"You?" Atris scoffed. "If they believe you a Jedi, the teachings of the Sith blind them, indeed. I am the last Jedi, not you. You betrayed our teachings, our beliefs… the very core of the Jedi Order. If these Sith attacked you, they will soon realize their mistake. And if you escaped… they most likely let you go, to see if you would lead them here."

"They're stronger than you think," Selyn tried to warn her. "At least one Sith Lord stands with them… and they fight differently from the Sith from the Jedi Civil War."

"Whatever force they can bring to bear, it will matter not – if they face a true Jedi, they shall fall."

An old blindness she had seen before and tried to reject, and the fact that Atris still believed in it to the hilt brought out her rare sarcasm. "Your grasp of tactics is… questionable."

Atris dismissed her comment. "We shall see… for now, the perspective on your situation has changed. I have 'your' ship. I will return it to you. You must leave here, before you place us in jeopardy."

"Wait – is there anything I can do to help?"

"You offer your aid? After turning your back on me – on the Council? The Jedi is not something you embrace out of fear. The commitment is stronger than that, something you never seemed to understand."

Selyn did not lower her head. "I am not doing this out of fear. I want to help."

"Perhaps… but if you help me, it cannot be done from here. There are others in the galaxy who may help us against a Sith threat. If you can find them, gain their trust, perhaps our defences will be stronger for it. Take your ship, seek them out. If you find them, encourage them to gather on Dantooine – from there, we can call a Council and see what can be done."

"If there is anyone who can aid us, I will find them."

"Then I shall send you on your way… Now it is time for you to depart."

The white-clad handmaidens came up beside her. "We shall remove her, mistress. Come with us."

.

Bao-Dur was finally waking up when she found them, groaning but otherwise intact. Kreia looked inscrutable, and Atton was also waking up from a nap, it seemed. He was paler than usual, and he did not smile as he looked at her. She felt vague disappointment, and worry. It seemed… unlike him. Not that he always smiled when he saw her, but he obviously did not share the same relief about seeing her that she felt about seeing him.

She gathered them all, discovered T-3, and led them to the Ebon Hawk. Atton grumbled at the controls, but as far as she could tell, they seemed untampered with, and he put the ship into space and into an orbit around one of the other planets in the system, where they wouldn't be disturbed.

All of her companions gathered in the main hold, around the main computer projector. "Well, now that we're off that dejarik board of a planet, I say we burn sky until we see lines," Atton said.

T-3 squealed.

Selyn knelt beside him. "What is it, T-3?"

The droid beeped rapidly. "Slow down – I didn't catch that first part." Warbling. "The link worked both ways?" Behind her, she heard Atton sigh impatiently. T-3 continued blooping melodiously.

"What is the machine saying?" Kreia asked.

"…There is a holo-record of the day I was exiled," Selyn said slowly. T-3 beeped triumphantly and plugged his jack into the projector. She made a move as if to stop him, then stilled herself. Those memories were for her alone, not Atton and Bao-Dur. On the other hand… what could it hurt for them to know? They probably didn't even care.

The holo-record began to play in monochromatic blue, a half-dozen security feeds from the Council chamber on Coruscant. She thought a decade would have insulated her from this moment, but it still felt a little like a punch in the chest to see the Masters she had known so well, seated to judge her: Vrook, Zez Kai-Ell, Vash, Atris, and… Kavar.

.

"Do you know why we have called you here?" Master Vrook asked her.

She felt hollow inside. Numb. She had felt so ever since that last battle. She kept her face as impassive as she could. She was no fool. "You called me here to answer for my crimes on Malachor V," she said quietly. She would have done so if she was in their shoes, certainly.

"As Revan summoned you, so you have come full circle to return to the Jedi," Kavar said, and her emotionless stare almost broke as she looked at him.

"Why did you defy us?" Master Kai-Ell asked. "The Jedi are the guardians of peace, and have been for centuries. This call to war undermines all that we have worked for."

"Is Revan your master now?" Atris asked bitterly. "Or is it the horror you wrought at Malachor that has caused you to see the truth at last?"

They might sense the hollowness in her, but she knew why she had done it. "The truth… the truth is the Mandalorians had to be stopped, or countless more would have died." How do you bring peace with a people who only wish war? How do you protect the helpless against them, save with the strength of your will and the blood of your own body?

They'd heard all these arguments before. "You refuse to hear us," Master Kai-Ell said. "You have shut us out, and so have shut yourself to the galaxy."

"We feel your true understanding of what happened at Malachor V will only come in time," Master Kavar said. "And it cannot happen here, near the battlegrounds where you fought."

"You are exiled, and you are a Jedi no longer," Master Vash said, surprisingly gently.

"There is one last thing," Master Vrook said. "Your lightsaber. Surrender it to us."

She had expected it. What else would they have done? It was not the Jedi way to imprison. But… she had thought maybe… healing might have been had, that some punishment, no matter how heavy, might have been given to her that did not involve sending her away…

Her control slipped. She took her lightsaber in her hand, ignited the silver blade, and plunged it in frustration and grief into the stone in the centre of the Council chamber.

She turned and walked away, and all were silent.

.

The door closed behind her holographic figure. Selyn was about to shut the recording off when Kavar spoke. "Much defiance in her still."

"You were correct, Kavar," said Kai-Ell. "When she was here, I felt it. It was as if she was not there, more like an echo of her."

"Revan's influence has grown among the youngest of the Order – she speaks to their passions, not their sense. The war has touched them. Many have _found_ themselves in the war against the Mandalorians."

"It is as I feared," Master Vash said. "And I fear we have played into the hands of the enemy."

"We have not lost a Jedi this day," Atris declared. "You felt it, she has lost herself. She is no Jedi… She walked Revan's path… but she was not strong enough."

"I fear it is our teachings that may have led Revan to choose the path she did," Kai-Ell said.

Atris gave him a sharp look. "We are not the ones who taught her."

"We take responsibility, Atris, not cast blame," Vash soothed.

"The choice of one was the choice of us all," Kavar said. "Revan's teacher intended no harm. And Revan has had many teachers since."

"Yet they all stem from the same source," Atris said. "Her teachings violated the Jedi Code and lead all who listen to the Dark Side, as they did Selyn."

"You are wrong," Vash said. "The Dark Side is not what I sensed in Selyn. Surely the rest of you felt it as well. That emptiness we felt… she has changed."

"Whatever that… wound was, it was of the Dark Side," Atris said stubbornly. "We should not have let her depart. She will simply join Revan again, or perhaps worse."

"What would you have done with her, Atris?" Kai-Ell said, voice deep and resigned. "Be mindful of your feelings. This is not Revan who stood before you. This one walks a different path."

"No," Kavar said, "although that may come in time. We let her go because we must. Where she travels, she carries her destination with her." What did that mean? Was it related to the fact that she had no real destination in mind when she left the Council?

"Malachor V should have been her grave," Atris said, voice shaking. "You saw it in her walk, and in the Force. It was as if she were already dead."

 _You may be right for once, Atris,_ Selyn said to herself.

"No, not death," Kai-Ell said. "Many battles remain for that one, if what we have seen is true. But the future is a shifting thing, and Selyn Tekeri cuts like a blade through it."

"We should have told her the truth," Vash said. "A Jedi deserves to know."

"No good would have come from it, even if what you believed is true," Vrook said. "There is still the matter of Revan, and such truths could leave us vulnerable on two fronts."

"Perhaps, in many years, we will call her before us and explain what happened to her, and how she may be healed. Until then, she must accept her journey," Kavar said.

"But she may never discover the truth," Vash said. "And she will never know why we cast her out."

"Then that is the future we must accept," Vrook said, and the Masters rose to depart.

The recording shut off on its own.

Selyn leaned against the projector, swallowing hard.

"Those Jedi sure like their secrets, don't they?" Atton asked, his tone somewhere between levity and bitterness. T-3 moaned softly.

"That last part… I had no idea," she said almost in a whisper.

T-3 beeped interrogatively.

She looked down at the little droid. "I know it could take a while, T-3, but keep searching those archives. See if there's anything else useful in there." The droid burbled. "A list of the missing Jedi? That's exactly what we need." She straightened up, business-like.

A list of names and faces appeared through the projector. Vrook was last seen on Dantooine. Zez Kai-Ell, on Narr Shaddaa. Kavar, on Onderon- Onderon? Vash was apparently headed to Korriban, and Selyn felt a shiver run down her back at the name of that cursed planet. And Atris was on Telos, but that, she already knew.

"Those are all the Masters from the recording," Bao-Dur said. "A strange coincidence."

"It is no coincidence," Kreia said. "There is some larger plan at work here. And we are walking into it. This is too convenient to be anything but a trap."

Selyn considered. It was absolutely true. But Atris had not been good at plots, and while gaining Selyn's help had been blunt enough, there was something subtle at work that did not seem like her. But… "We don't have much of a choice. We need their help against the Sith."


	4. Part 4: Winds of War

Author's note: I've rewritten Chapters 2 and 3 (discovered that Chapter 2 wasn't even finished when I uploaded it?). Part of the inspiration is listening to the GitS soundtrack; the track for this chapter is Replica.

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Part 4: Winds of War

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Dantooine was the first destination on her list. She'd heard the enclave was destroyed when Malek, then a Sith, tried to kill Revan, then in the process of redeeming herself. Selyn had been raised and trained in the Coruscant Temple, but she'd been to Dantooine often enough before the war. She wanted to see if there was anything left, though she was not looking forward to meeting Master Vrook there. She would rather have sought out Master Vash first, but she did not feel strong enough to challenge Korriban yet.

She was wandering the ship when she came to the 'garage' and found Bao-Dur working on bits of the ship that were still damaged from when she'd found it. "Hello, Bao-Dur."

"Ge- Tekeri," he queried softly. "Is there a reason you don't carry a lightsaber anymore?"

He'd seen the recording too, hadn't he? "It… was taken from me."

"That lightsaber doesn't belong to you anymore. That lightsaber belonged to the person who fought with Revan in the wars, not the person you are now. I would have thought you would have a new one by now. You… could build another one… if you wanted to."

"I have no wish to," she said.

"Whatever the reason for that, you should put it behind you," and she gave him a sharp look at his scolding. "Tekeri… a lightsaber is part of who you are. Without it, you're not complete."

She stalled. "The Jedi enclaves are destroyed. I don't know where I'll get the parts."

"I can help," he said, almost eagerly. "I know what parts you need."

She raised an eyebrow. "And since when are you an expert on lightsabers?"

He rubbed his hands in a Zabrak gesture of embarrassment. "I spent a lot of time with Jedi during the war. None of them would let me take their lightsaber apart, but I learned a lot about their construction. Let me see… the important parts are the power cell, emitter matrix, focusing lens, and crystal – although I never did understand the crystal part."

She knew how to evaluate crystals. She sighed. "You really think it's that important?" How much of his belief was real, and how much was his not-quite-hidden lingering hero-worship of her?

"I do," he said stubbornly. "I found a power cell that might work, kicking around back here. Think on it?"

"I'll ask Kreia. …Thanks for the suggestion."

.

"Got a minute?" Atton asked, leaning into the workspace area of the Ebon Hawke. The ship was safely in hyperspace, so he could wander away from the pilot's seat if he liked. And Selyn was asleep, he thought – he was pretty sure. Which was relevant.

The Zabrak mechanic glanced at him for a minute, juggling more hydrospanners than one person should reasonably be expected to deal with at one time. "I'm a little busy here. What is it?"

"It won't take long," Atton assured him.

"All right, I'll work while you talk."

Worked for him. "Look, your friend, Tekeri, you know her from way back, don't you. How well do you actually know her?"

"Yeah, during the war, if that's what you mean by from way back. Can't say I know too much about her, really."

Atton shrugged. "Better than anyone else on this ship. Just give me your opinion, okay? And don't laugh."

"I'm trying to work here, Atton."

"I was just wondering if, maybe, she and I might-"

He actually paused in his careful hand-twisting manoeuvres and looked at the pilot. "You're being serious."

The human made an affronted face. "I asked you not to laugh."

"You are being serious." The Zabrak closed his eyes for a minute as if gathering his patience – Atton had that effect on people – and then continued. "Atton, she was a general. I was a tech. Your guess is as good as mine."

Not helpful. "Well, what's your guess, then?"

Very deliberately, the Zabrak turned away from him. "I'm getting back to work."

"Hey! I'm being serious!"

The trash compactor fidgeted in the corner and tootled at him. He shot it a glare. " _You're_ laughing at me? I'll have you put on the scrap heap, you rolling tin can!"

.

Selyn stood motionless at the top of the hill, eyes closed, letting Dantooine's sun shine on her eyelids, letting the wind brush her hair. She breathed, slowly, deliberately, filling herself with breath and the Force, as delicately as with a newborn child. She was afraid, at first, though a Jedi should never have fear… calling out silently and waiting, listening for the echoes of the scream that still resonated within her.

She didn't feel them, not here or now, and relaxed into the Force.

This was a good place for it: alive, but not overwhelming. She could stretch her disused spiritual muscles. She'd forgotten how beautiful it was, in all the joy and grief that was life. Even though there was much grief here, on Dantooine, it was still life, with all the painful hope and innocence and wonder that was contained therein. She could give it up, had lived without it for so long, but before that, she had forgotten what it was. During the war, the Force had only become a tool, to use telekinesis, to inspire others, to sense the world around her. What a fool she'd been.

This time, she wouldn't forget.

She began to move, slowly, through the complete Shii-Cho form, not just to train – because she sorely needed that too – but also to feel every step through the Force, how attuned it was. Her eyes were still closed as the vibroblade hummed and spun through the air, occasionally knocking off the tips of the tall grasses around her. She felt the wind, felt like she flowed with it, turning and stepping in sequence.

She'd been training on the ship as well, trying to get back into proper fighting form to defend those who needed it, to succeed in her mission before the Sith killed her, but never as mindfully as this. It was good.

Form ended, she opened her eyes and saw Atton watching her gravely. Bao-Dur was beyond him, keeping a look-out for curious settlers so he could warn her to stop before she was discovered. She smiled a little at Atton, feeling more at peace with herself than she had in a while.

Atton didn't smile back, but he acknowledged her with a little nod that told her she had his approval. Why that made her so happy, she wasn't quite sure. He and Bao-Dur were both strong in the Force, she could feel now. Was that why they'd come along still, when they had no real reason to?

.

Dantooine arrived before he'd really worked out in his head how to hit on Selyn without scaring her off, and though it was a quiet planet, it wasn't long before she found the crew well tangled up in its problems. How did he know she'd go and do that? But at least her denial of her Jedi past was working for them there, because everyone and their eighty-year-old grandmother hated Jedi for the Jedi Civil War that nearly destroyed them a few years ago, and wouldn't think twice about handing her over to the Exchange.

If they could catch her, that is. He'd only seen Selyn fight a couple times, yet, besides training, and she hadn't seen him fight except with a blaster, thank goodness… but these yokels would hardly be a match for her if they turned on her. It almost made him laugh, how dumb they were.

So now we were in the old ruined Jedi Academy, looking for one of those Jedi she'd volunteered to find for some reason. So far, only monsters and moronic scavengers had been all we'd found.

She opened the door to… what did she say it was? The library? And then his headaches really began.

.

It looked empty at first, of people at least, but she heard someone moving around. Or something, but it didn't sound quite like the scratching of a wild animal. Before she knew it, she had reached out instinctively with the Force.

It was a person, and quite possibly someone who might help them. Not Vrook, but not someone whose spirit roiled with negative emotions, either. She rounded a databank to find a young blond man kneeling and frowning at the innards of the computer. When he saw her, he scrambled to his feet and made a low bow.

She blinked. "Odd to find a gentleman here." Atton and Bao-Dur peered suspiciously over her shoulder, blasters ready.

He straightened with a guileless smile. "I'd like to think that being in the field would not excuse a lack of manners. My name is Mical, and I'm a scholar and scientist in the service of the Republic. Well, more scholar than scientist, really."

"You should come out of that corner now, and keep your hands where I can see them," Atton demanded.

The man shrugged and complied, still with that pleasant look on your face. "And who might you be?"

"My name is Selyn, and my companions and I are looking for… someone. Do you know of a man named Vrook? I was told he might be here."

"I'm afraid not. This place was empty when I came here a few hours ago. There are fresh corpses over there in the open space, however." He wrinkled his nose and gestured. She went off to investigate, and after a moment of hesitation, her men followed.

There were several bodies, all armoured as mercenaries, all dead recently as he had said… from lightsaber wounds. There was no mistaking it. She looked back at the others; Bao-Dur had also recognized it, and Atton… Atton was still staring with hostility and even a little contempt at the blond, as if he was hiding a lightsaber himself.

One of the mercenaries had dropped a datapad; she picked it up. Orders to capture "the Jedi" alive, to cash in on the same bounty that threatened her. Wonderful. Vrook's specialty was not combat, so it was going to be up to her to rescue him before he was sent to Nar Shaddaa.

"Did you find a clue?" Mical asked. "Was Master Vrook here?"

She glanced sharply at him. "You called him 'Master' Vrook?"

"I am an historian," Mical said simply. "Specifically of the Jedi, although I am not one myself. Master Vrook, as perhaps you know yourself, was once a master here at this Jedi Enclave."

Selyn tilted her head on one side. "Is that why you look familiar to me?"

He chuckled softly. "I'm afraid I can't say why. I imagine in your lifetime, you have seen many people. Faces tend to blur together after a time. But thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment," Atton muttered.

Selyn wondered. She had seen many people during the war, but surely not a one of them remained so… open, unembittered by the world as this man. And since then she had seen few people. But without some further clue to jog her memory, she would have to accept his words.

"So you, too, are seeking Jedi?" Mical asked. "Why is that?"

She looked at him, tried to gauge his intentions so far as she could with her limited knowledge of people and limited control of the Force.

If he worked for the Republic as he said, he would not misuse her knowledge. At the very least, he wasn't a paranoid Dantooine farmer. "The Sith are moving in the galaxy, and I need the help of the remaining Masters to stop them."

His blue eyes opened wide. "If the Sith are rising in the galaxy again, it is strange the Jedi would not already be there to meet them… and that we have not seen more evidence of the Sith."

"You don't believe her?" Bao-Dur asked mildly.

"No, I believe. I merely find such subtleties among the Sith to be strange. They have been known to practice deception… but in the histories, since the time of the dark lords Kun and Qel-Droma… and Revan and Malek, such subtleties have been rare." He rested his chin on his fist, glanced back to where his pack lay. After a moment of consideration, he turned back to Selyn with a confident face. "In any case, it seems to me like our goals are compatible. If you would have me, I can apply my knowledge and skills to finding the answers – and aid – that you seek. And I have some small training in medical aid, psychology, and, when necessary, in firing blaster rifles."

"Look, we're already full up," Atton said roughly. "We don't need anyone else. We travel light."

"A moment, please," Selyn said, and withdrew a few paces. "Atton, we do need more help. All the help we can get, in fact. And he seems capable. We certainly don't have anyone trained in first aid."

Atton glowered, dark brows drawn together over sparkling dark grey eyes, but backed down almost right away. Surprisingly quickly, in fact. "Fine. Whatever you say. But I don't like him."

"For now, just don't be too much of a jerk to him."

"Whatever you say." He shrugged sullenly and made for the exit.

Mical was looking a bit concerned. "If it's a problem…"

"There's no problem," Selyn assured him. "You're welcome to come along, if you wish."

"Very well." He smiled brightly and went to collect his pack… and quite a large blaster rifle as well.

She took a deep breath. "Well, let's figure out where those mercenaries are holding Vrook, and quickly."

.

It took her hours to find Vrook, marching as swiftly as she could across the vast expanse of the Dantooine plains to find the caves where the mercenaries hid. At least there was no mud.

The confrontation with the mercenaries ended poorly, and she was forced to kill them to defend herself and her companions. And Vrook, who was locked in a force-cage, with arms folded and an intensely grumpy look on his face.

As she unlocked the door, he brushed past her without a look at her. "Always rushing into action without thinking of the consequences." She blinked in surprise and took a step back. "What? You were expecting thanks? Khoonda is in danger, and you've ruined the best chance of averting a full-scale conflict."

 _How? You were in a cage!_ she thought at him, but that would get her nowhere with Vrook. "I… apologize, then. I was trying to help."

"Perhaps if you took the time to understand the situation better, you wouldn't have messed up again."

 _Perhaps if you took the time to communicate with people instead of expecting them to read your mind with or without the Force, I could have worked with you instead of apparently against you_ , she thought. "What is the situation, then?"

"Right now, Dantooine is at a critical moment. If Khoonda falls, then the Republic may lose control of this system." He turned to study her, her stance. "Still, I'm surprised you were able to get this far. Although you do have your Jedi training to fall back on. Every action has consequences, no matter how small or insignificant they seem – and every choice has the potential for harm. The Mandalorian Wars was proof of this. Intentions mean nothing if a greater tragedy is caused."

They could argue about that later. "What do we do now?"

"I need to get to Khoonda and warn them. They could be attacked at any moment."

"How can I help?"

Vrook looked at her another moment, then nodded. "If you wish to actually prove yourself, then do so. The mercenaries have allied themselves with the Exchange and are planning to attack Khoonda. They've been holding off for the right moment. And now since they lost their captive Jedi, they'll attack immediately. I'm going to try to reach Administrator Adare. Time is of the essence."

"Like they weren't going to attack immediately anyway," Atton muttered.

"Let us return to Khoonda immediately," Vrook said. "Much as I hate to admit it, your experience may prove useful here, and we have much to prepare."

.

"Why am I doing this, exactly?" he asked.

Bao-Dur glanced at him in disinterest. "Because if Khoonda is captured by the mercenaries, the Republic loses control of Dantooine and therefore stability in this entire region of space."

"Not what I asked," he said. "Also, how does one farming village control an entire region of space? …Never mind. Why are we still here?"

"I'm following the General because I want to. I don't know what you're doing, except complaining."

"Atton?" She'd noticed his griping and turned around, crap.

He sighed. "I get why you have to fight… but I don't like it."

Brown eyes frowned at him in concern. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"And leave you with alone those militia greenies against all those mercs? No way. You need as many people as possible watching your back."

"Don't you mean someone more reliable than you?" Mical sniped quietly, and he shot a glare at him.

He didn't have any reasonable objections. He didn't want to fight for these nobodies, and he didn't want Selyn to fight for them either, but of course she wanted to, and he couldn't say no to her, even if Kreia wasn't holding him on a leash like a tailless vornskr. It wasn't any of their business… and yet he could see how it was at the same time.

Not to mention it was really hard to turn his back on those brown eyes. _You're such a loser, Rand_.

He sighed again. "Fine, fine, I'll do it. But if any of the greenies miss their target and hit you, I'm shooting them in the foot."

She still wasn't satisfied and drew him away from the others. "I know you don't really want to be traveling with us…"

"No, no, it's not that." _Frak, how to salvage this without her getting suspicious about half a dozen things?_ "It's… look, forget it."

"But you have a life…"

Honesty to On. Sort of. "I don't really mind being here," he muttered. "It's not like I have anything better to do right now. Better company than I've had in a long time, even if Kreia's an old bat and I already hate Mical's guts. And that droid. I'm not happy about sticking _my_ neck on the line for these farmers, but since you are, I will."

She smiled. "That's good to hear. And take care of yourself. I don't want you to get hurt, either."

She didn't even question why he was still here, not really.

Good. He wasn't sure of the answer, himself.

.

Leading troops again, even a squad of raw, green militia recruits… left her with mixed feelings. On one hand, she already knew that as long as she could maintain her self-control, she was good at leading. And she was good at maintaining self-control, too. And while this battle was promising to be bloody, it would hardly be able to match the horror of Dxun, of Serroco. She would inspire her followers and keep their hope burning until the battle was won. She hoped they would win. There was only one of her, and one of Vrook, and one of Atton and Bao-Dur and Zherron, the militia captain. And their attackers held many mercenaries hardened in the same crucible that she had endured. The odds were heavily against them. But if she didn't believe, none of her followers would either.

On the other hand, she didn't want to get used to the feeling again, the feeling of being a military commander. That had destroyed her soul before ever she came to Malachor.

But there was no way she could have refused. The only option even remotely reasonable to her was to help the colonists, to fight their aggressors, even if the mercenaries hadn't already proved themselves immoral bullies for the most part. To have said no would have been her own moral suicide.

So she would bear with the conflict within herself, lock it down where no hint of it would dismay the young men and women who crouched beside her, nervous and jittery at being in their first combat.

With vibroblade and blaster in hand, she rose from cover and flowed to meet the enemy that had made it past the minefield, a rain of blaster bolts from her allies thundering past her. "Don't be afraid, but keep your heads down!"

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Atton had never served under Selyn directly in the Mandalorian War. She was a general of infantry and capital ships; he was a fighter pilot. He had never seen her first-hand in action in quite this way, leading others, giving these kids confidence, projecting an image of complete calm and martial prowess. The sort of image that made the kids think 'hey, I could be like her. Not quite as awesome as her, but like her.' Her blue Zeison Sha armour, found in the ruins, made her small figure striking, but her big brown eyes and shining black hair made her beautiful. And therefore convincing to the newbies.

He even felt a swell of confidence himself, much stronger than he'd expected, even though he'd seen her fight alongside him and the other crew of the Ebon Hawke in a much more honest manner.

It couldn't be completely true. She looked so at ease, whether it was crouching beside them, giving them last-minute advice, or charging into the teeth of the enemy to fight them vibroblade to vibroblade… Either she was really good at faking it, or she had completely fallen back into being the General Bao-Dur hero-worshiped.

The second option made him uneasy. He wasn't sure why, and here and now wasn't the time to examine it closely – now was only time to follow his instincts and shoot every bastard who sighted on her. And try not to watch her, as usual. And kick the guy next to him if he stopped shooting to watch her. Idiot.

.

When the dust had settled, the leader of the mercenaries lay dead at her feet and Khoonda was still intact, her administrator still alive. After receiving thanks, Selyn met with Vrook out on the plains to learn what he knew. Atton, Bao-Dur, and Mical went back to the ship ahead of her.

"It seems you are not completely hopeless," Vrook grumbled as they walked. "No, that is a disservice. Khoonda is safe in no small part due to you. You may be reckless, but you are competent and you have not fallen to the Dark Side. At least, as far as I can tell." He grimaced. But it was as high praise as Vrook had ever given anyone. "What brought you to Dantooine in the first place?"

"I was looking for you," she said. "The Sith have returned and, from what I am told, are not acting like we expect Sith to act."

"Indeed. And that is why I am here as well. It became clear not long ago that wherever Jedi gathered, the Dark Side was drawn to it. This threat does not use weapons or armies; it strikes through the Force, wiping out Jedi and destroying our secret sanctuaries."

"Like Katarr?"

"How did you know of Katarr?" Vrook rounded on her, surprised. "That was only known to a few."

"I found mention of it on Telos." Atris's files had mentioned it, and the deaths of the masters there.

"Interesting… But yes. All life on the planet has somehow ceased to exist. So many Jedi Masters… and the entire race of the Miraluka, wiped out. It was that which taught us that it was necessary to divide our forces and conceal those of us who were left until we could learn more. We each chose places where it would be difficult for the enemy to detect us. I do not even know where the others may be, and we will not contact each other until one of us discovers where the Sith are striking from and how."

"Is that why you let yourself be captured?"

Vrook snorted. "What, you truly believed the mercenaries had overcome me? If so, you are no brighter than they were. When an enemy believes you are defeated, they no longer consider you a threat – and they relax their guard, become bold. After I was captured, they talked freely of their plans, enough for me to learn their intentions. And I had hoped that through them, I might trace a trail back to the Sith, and recover the holocrons they stole."

"They stole Jedi holocrons?" she asked, worried. If the holocrons were stolen by the Sith, they were as good as destroyed.

It seemed it was worse than that. "I fear they have used the knowledge of the holocrons to uncover our hidden enclaves. Which would lead to more holocrons, and more knowledge of us that they can use to destroy. Meanwhile, they have still not stepped from the shadows and we know little to nothing about them."

"Were you really safe here? There is not much to mask the presence of a Jedi Master…"

"Battlegrounds, places of suffering… they leave their wounds on the Force." He gestured towards the distant ruins of the Jedi Enclave. She'd felt the scars there, too – the fear and anguish that lingered, poignant, melancholy, in those walls. "The deaths of those Malak killed here echo still. It is difficult to centre oneself, but also difficult for me to be felt. But in turn, I cannot feel the presence of any Sith here. It may be only that they are masking themselves as well, but I feel as if there are none here. So I have come to a dead end."

"But that is not the only reason you came here…"

"Yes, you are right." Vrook sighed, and seemed to diminish. "Perhaps I just wanted to see the place… one last time."

They were both silent a moment. Selyn had not been to Dantooine much, but she had visited, and she could understand Vrook's grief.

Vrook straightened. "I suppose, before you go, you have questions about your exile."

"No. I have questions about other things. I had thought that… Malachor V destroyed my connection to the Force, but I have been told that it was cut off by the Jedi Council. Why would you-"

"We did not cut your connection to the Force," Vrook interrupted gruffly. "We did nothing to you. We could have, but that was not something the Council did."

"I see," she said. "Then can you explain how I have re-established my connection?"

Vrook turned to glare in confusion at her. "Perhaps it is the energy of Dantooine, but I do not feel such from you. I feel nothing but what I felt in the Council chamber ten years ago. Still, you and your… connections in general were a source of much debate in the council. It is possible that returning to known space has caused it to stir within you again."

He had been fighting on the other side of the building. He had not seen her in battle, how she anticipated the enemy's attacks as one can only do with the Force.

She definitely felt the Force again, more strongly by the day, although she was still afraid of the echoes she felt deep down. They were growing, sure as her control of the Force was growing. When she had been alone, she hadn't had to feel anyone around. She wondered what it was like to speak with someone and to not have the Force, to not be able to read their aura, only their words and body language. Like a normal person. Probably frightening, at least at first, since she had known the Force since she was young.

But as Kreia said, if she could feel it, she must be trained in it.

"The Sith believe I am a Jedi, though," she said aloud. "They have attacked me, too."

"Mm. I see. I have only a little to offer: how is your Shien form?"

"I haven't practiced it in ten years…" She drew her vibroblade and faced him, as he drew his lightsaber and face her.

"You are not exaggerating. Your form is horribly sloppy. Here, like this."

.

Vrook might be old, but he was no pushover as a teacher, Selyn reflected wearily as she returned to the Ebon Hawk in the dimming light of dusk. After a grueling battle earlier in the day, as well. And he hadn't had any information on the lethal Force Bond she shared with Kreia, either.

She walked up the boarding ramp and paused. There should have been more sound about; the whirr of T3's little servomotors as he puttered about the ship, perhaps some clicking or clanking from Bao-Dur in the garage ahead of her…

She closed her eyes and stretched out with the Force… Her friends were clustered in the cargo bay, possibly asleep… or knocked out. And there was…

…a presence, charging her from the left with the familiar hum of a lightsaber.

Selyn leaped forward, into the common area, a half-second ahead of the crimson blade that slashed viciously towards her. Adrenaline had already blasted her weariness into oblivion. She rolled and came up in a combat crouch, vibroblade in hand. "Who are you? What have you done with my friends?"

The hooded woman made no answer but lunged at her again. Selyn blocked. Shien form was going to be useless here; it was too bad she'd just spent half the day practicing it. Makashi was what she needed now.

The woman was driving her back, lightsaber swinging at cortosis-weave blade, through the common area, up towards the cockpit where she'd be trapped. Step by step, attack by counterattack, she pressed forward, but Selyn dodged around the holoprojector to keep the battle to the open area. Both women hissed as they scored superficial wounds on each other, but Selyn's armour protected her more than her opponant's black leather robe.

Her body was steady, eyes, hands, feet, but her heart thrummed with worry. Were her friends truly all right? She had only brushed them, had no time to count who was there. At least she knew Kreia was all right. And it had been a long time since she had fought a lightsaber duel to the death. So far, her skills were holding up, but…

Fear had no place here. Anger and worry for her friends had no place here. Only bloodless concentration on defending against the strange enemy before her. Yes, strange, for the woman felt of the Dark Side, and yet… very mildly, as if it were only a cloak over her. Could it be a trick? This woman feared her, but whatever hatred and anger she felt did not feel directed at her.

In fact, despite the ferocity of her attacks, and the grim set of her veiled face, it didn't seem like she wanted to kill Selyn. And Selyn didn't want to kill her.

The woman flung out her hand, and suddenly Selyn couldn't see. No, that wasn't true. She saw the interior of the ship dimly, as through a mist, but her opponant shone in the Force and she could see it as with her eyes. Her own hands were shining where they gripped the vibroblade.

She didn't understand, but startled as she was, she fought on, cutting the woman in the thigh as she lunged forward again.

Who was she? What was she doing here? If she was a Sith, was she alone? She couldn't sense any other hostiles on the Ebon Hawke, but they could be cloaking themselves. Still, no one else had attacked her yet. The woman's attacks were unrefined, but still so fast and powerful that it was all Selyn could do to keep up with her. If there were other hostiles, they would have to wait their turn.

The woman overreached just once, hampered by her wounds, and Selyn sliced at the hilt of her lightsaber with a flick of her wrist. The blow connected and the red lightsaber fizzled out, its crystals cut.

The woman staggered back and dropped to her knees, and not entirely because of the wound in her leg, it seemed. "I yield… master. It is as I felt in the Force. My life… for yours." She was panting in pain, but pride was keeping her up.

"I won't kill you," Selyn said. This was no Sith. This was a bantha in rancor clothing. "You are-"

"You must," the woman interrupted. "The alternative is only another death… and I would rather die by your hands."

So she _was_ Sith-trained, then, if she was supposed to die for her failure. Half-trained, really. Her saber combat was good, despite the roughness, but she was lacking in almost everything else. She didn't seem so young, could she really be an apprentice Sith? "Let me help you to the med bay. No one needs to die for anything right now."

"I… have nothing to offer you. Your strength is superior… It is as I felt…" The woman slumped over, unconscious.

Blood loss? Shock? In either case, she needed immediate help. Even if she wasn't as straightforward as she seemed, she couldn't be left to die. As gently as she could, Selyn gathered her up and carried her to the med bay. She could do little for these wounds besides slap bandages on them, but if Mical was unhurt… She ran to the cargo bay and slapped the lock open.

T-3 tootled happily to see her, although he was missing a leg to a lightsaber swipe. The rest… looked unharmed but were all present, lying about as if dumped there unceremoniously. "Hello? Wake up! I'm back!" She patted Atton on the shoulder, then moved to Mical. "Atton, we should take off as soon as you feel well enough. Mical? I need your help."

.

Mical stablized the strange woman quickly enough. After Atton put the ship into space and en route to their next planet, he came to investigate. He was the only one who did; Kreia returned to the women's dorm and meditated, and Bao-Dur went back to the garage to work on T3, or maybe just to tinker, something he found calming even if the Ebon Hawk's most major repairs were complete. "A Miraluka, huh? Now I've seen everything." His expression was only a little hostile from his recent experience with her, mostly just curious.

She looked human to Selyn, except for the lack of eyes under her veil, but she'd never met a Miraluka before. "I thought they all died on Katarr."

"Maybe she wasn't on Katarr at the time. Except they're really secretive, it would be unusual for one of them to leave the planet. I'd heard some of them become Jedi, but she's a Sith, isn't she? Attacking us, attacking you… That's… well, that's a new one."

"I'm not sure what she felt. I'm certain she was Sith-trained, but she does not feel completely like one." Selyn shook herself. "Not that I've met many Sith."

"Right, you sat out the Jedi Civil War. Man, she looks like she's already been through a beating, even without the injuries you gave her."

"She is going to recover, right?" she asked Mical. If she could save this one…

"She should make a full recovery, and in quick time, too," Mical assured her. "I had to read up on her physiology, but yes. As Atton said, she has many scars, but Miraluka appear to be very tough and hardy. I think she'll be all right."

"You could have just said 'yes'," Atton grumbled.

.

Although the rest of the crew would have been happy to dump their mysterious injured attacker back on Dantooine for Vrook to deal with, Selyn knew that would only be a burden for the settlement there. The safest place for the Miraluka to be, both for herself and for them, was with them.

After a day in hyperspace, the woman woke. Selyn went immediately to see her, when Mical came to tell her.

The Miraluka was sitting up, adjusting her veil so that the upper portion of her face was hidden. Was it to make the humans more comfortable around her? Selyn wondered. As she entered, the woman turned to face her as if she saw her.

Perhaps she did. The Miraluka wouldn't have evolved blind without some other way of 'seeing'.

"My life for yours," the woman said softly before Selyn could say anything.

Selyn paused. "Are you doing well?"

"I am fit to serve. If we enter battle, I will fight and die alongside you."

Selyn paused longer. "That's… not what I asked." And, though the words were poetic, she wasn't planning for anyone on this ship to die on her, and she wasn't planning to die herself. Yet, anyway.

The other woman also paused, processing, then answered: "I am sorry. I… have not heard that question in some time. My flesh is healed, if that is the answer you seek."

"Good," Selyn said. "Who are you, and why did you attack me, when you didn't seek to kill me?"

"My name is Visas, Visas Marr, and my Master sent me."

"Who is he, or she, and why did they send you?"

"I do not know his name… He is only darkness and hunger. But he saved me… I am his scout, his emissary. My master became aware of a disturbance in the Force, but he was unaware of its nature – unaware of you. The disturbance was not like that caused by a living thing. There is little my Master does not know, and that you eluded his sight for so long… is significant, but I do not know why."

Selyn shivered, Vrook's words unwillingly called back to her. She felt that her connection to the Force was as normal as any other Jedi… but so many people were saying otherwise she had to wonder what was wrong with her. "Where is your Master?"

"I cannot tell you. His vessel roams the borders of known space, and even I do not know where he travels…. until he… calls for me. Even if I could lead you to my Master, I cannot permit you to find him… until you are ready. Without your potential realized, then you will be lost to me. And I cannot allow that to happen. It would be as if one brought fire to a paradise valley, shattered a cavern of rare crystal… or blinded a painter. Now that I have found you, I cannot sacrifice what I have found."

"I don't understand," Selyn said. "And you realize of course that I have little reason to trust you. You could be cautioning me only to allow him to grow more powerful."

Visas shook her head mournfully. "I realize this. I had to test you. If I could defeat you, then you were not the one who could defeat my Master." She looked up at Selyn. "I did not hurt your friends."

"That is true. Although you did hurt T3 a bit."

"I… am sorry. I found it difficult to disable the droid in the same way as your other companions."

"Thank you," Selyn said. "I'll tell him. But now, what are you going to do? I may trust you, but I don't believe anyone else here will. We're still a long way off from our destination, although Atton could be persuaded to set you down on the nearest inhabited planet without too much trouble, I think…"

"I must come with you," Visas said, suddenly passionate. "I do not care what your followers think of me. I do not care how they or you treat me. But you will face my Master someday – I have seen it – and when you stand before him, and realize what you face, you must be prepared. Until then, I must help you and protect you in your trials."

"My trials." Selyn offered a tired smile. "Yes, I suppose they are trials. But you can't help me with the heaviest of them."

"The trials of the mind," Visas said in a low voice. "I know. When my home-" She cut off suddenly, withdrawing into herself.

"Do you know what happened to Katarr?" Selyn asked. "Would you tell me?"

"It was… my Master." The words came slowly. "I am sorry, I have not spoken of it to anyone since it…"

"Your Master killed an entire world?" Selyn whispered, shocked and not quite believing.

"The Jedi, the last Council of the Jedi, came to our world to meet in secret. They hoped that among our people they would achieve the clarity to 'see' what was striking at them from the dark corners of the galaxy. They succeeded… but only in bringing him from the Outer Regions. And – you know my people are Force-sensitive – with the Miraluka and the Jedi on its surface, it was not something he could ignore."

"So he…" How was it possible for a single being to do such a thing, even through the Force? To drain an entire planet of the Force?

'Size matters not', Master Vandar told every pupil who passed through his classes. If such a Dark being could do such a thing, was it possible for a Light being to do something similar but, obviously, for everyone's good?

"I was the only living thing remaining on the planet of Katarr… and my life, my agony, was a flicker in the darkness that was the planet. All that I had been connected to had been severed. I still wonder what would have happened if I had died with the others… if perhaps there would have been some way to hide my presence from the galaxy. If only I had not… felt that pain, that loss, as strongly as I did. But it could not be done. When the life was bled from the planet, and yet somehow, I remained, my Master came for me. He walked upon the surface of my dead world, and there, lying in the bodies of my race, he took me for his own. And he made me _see_. And for the first time, I saw the galaxy. And I wished to die."

What did she see? Did she not already wish to die?

"To this galaxy, my world, absent the currents and spectrums of the Force, was nothing but crude matter, rock, flesh, emptiness. He showed the flickering of life on other planets, the mass of beings that swarm through the empty places of the galaxy. To see such creatures, disconnected from themselves, their world, their place in it, unable to see the currents and how they affected everything around them."

"That's life," Selyn said weakly.

"He showed me to make me believe in his cause," Visas said quietly, calmly. "He convinced me the galaxy, all life must die. He fed upon its ugliness, its screaming, and in its place, he left silence… and where there was chaos, he brought stillness… and order."

"That's horrible," Selyn whispered. "Do you truly… believe that…?"

Visas didn't even twitch. "No. But yes."

.

She knelt in the cargo bay, away from prying eyes – especially that of the nosy, mouthy assassin droid she had just repaired with Bao-Dur's help. Apparently Revan had built the droid. It had her sense of humour… turned up to eleven and dipped in acid and blood. And it had her philosophy as well.

And Force, it was distracting even when it wasn't around. She'd get her answers about the Mandalorian Wars later. She was trying to concentrate.

You were supposed to assemble your lightsaber using only the Force. But she'd already passed that test, twenty years ago, and maintenance on her old one had taught her that using her hands was more satisfying… except for the most fiddly bits when it was – had been – easier to use the Force to tweak things rather than reach for the smallest screwdriver. With her control over the Force not quite that strong yet, she'd rely solely on the screwdrivers today, loaned from Bao-Dur.

He'd insisted, and Kreia had agreed. A lightsaber would mark Selyn as a target, yet the more she got involved, straightening things out, trying to make life easier for everyone else in the galaxy, the more she would need one at her side. A vibroblade only went so far.

And a lightsaber was actually easier to hide than a great big metal blade, and her best blade was all notched from the fight with Visas anyway. Cortosis only made the metal lightsaber-resistant, not lightsaber-proof.

Was this part of her healing? Would this help her connection to the Force, or her connection to Kreia, or anything? Or would it only help in killing her opponants faster?

She had to put down the hilt and her tools for a moment, put her head down, and take deep breaths as her hands remembered and shook.

Visas' words came to her now. Was the only way for her to have peace to die? She had wanted to die, had almost tried four times over the long years of her exile, but something stopped her each time. Whether it was the then-unfelt Force, or just that she wanted to try to atone before she gave in, she didn't know.

Was she Jedi? Was she not Jedi? Why couldn't she be normal, whether Jedi or not Jedi? She was pretty sure she wasn't Sith. But with Visas describing her Master as an empty hunger in the Force, and Vrook describing her as an empty spot in the Force… That was unsettling. Did she deserve a lightsaber? Wasn't Bao-Dur just walking in the same old dark paths she walked?

She picked it up again. Only a couple of parts left now.

She thumbed the switch. Violet blazed into being above her hand. She settled both hands around the hilt and made some abbreviated stances before making loops with her wrist.

Satisfied, with its construction if not her lack of resolution for its use, she powered it off and hung it from her belt. She'd taken off her armour aboard ship, and she felt the saber's weight more fully without it.

She made for the cockpit. Atton had once asked about her lightsaber. Maybe he'd like to see her new one.


	5. Part 5: Running and Drinking

Author's note: Lots of juicy stuff in this chapter, hope you've been looking forward to it as much as I have! I had to break Nar Shaddaa in half so there's more to come next time. Inspiration track for this chapter is Inner Universe.

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Part 5: Running and Drinking

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Nar Shaddaa was filthy, packed and miserable. The crowds that trudged hopelessly through layer on layer of streets made it so easy for anyone to get shanked by anyone else. Refugees, former soldiers, thieves and thugs and Mandalorians staked out little empires, hiding amongst each other's company, asking no questions and giving no answers. Glitbiters and spiceheads sprawled in doorways and alcoves, ignored even by the ignored. Enclosed by endless walls of skyscrapers, firmly under the thumb of the Hutts, a smoggy sky was all most of them could glimpse of a life beyond this place. The roads, coated in nameless substances, crunched and oozed beneath countless feet, and the very air felt like it was coated in desperate oil.

To Atton, it was the closest thing resembling home.

'Home' had once been Alderaan. A long, long time ago, in another life… A life too long and worthless to tell. Now this place, with its myriad fetid smells and copious blaster scoring, suited him far better. He could blend in here, hide here, never be found by friend or enemy. Every one of life's needs and some of its more interesting pleasures were easy to hand. If he died here, no one would care. And that was all right.

It _had_ been all right. He wasn't convinced that it was anymore. And the reason was to do with a pair of absent-minded brown eyes smiling at him like he mattered again. She was dangerous. The longer he stayed, the more he wanted to stay, and the better the chances she would learn what he had been and kill him.

He should just leave, here – hop a ride to the other side of the planet and burrow into a hole somewhere. But if anyone could track him down, Kreia could, and her revenge wouldn't necessarily take place immediately. If he ran he would never be safe again.

And more importantly, Selyn would probably fail without him around. She stood out here like a Rodian at a Gand convention – beautiful without flaunting overt sexuality, perfect upright warrior posture, lacking either a hunted or an arrogant expression. And it wasn't like either Mical or Visas would be any help, they stood out as much as she did. Bao-Dur, maybe. The mouthy assassin droid, probably, or it would just draw more attention to her. Kreia didn't stand out, but would she bother to help Selyn do the same? Probably not. So it was on him.

When they first touched down and she made for the docking ramp to go see what was out there, he stopped her in her tracks. "Where do you think you're going, looking like that?"

She blinked at him, confused. "…Outside? What's wrong with how I look?"

Jedi _really_ needed to get out more. "In that shiny blue armour? With a lightsaber hanging from your belt? Nuh-uh, sweetheart, here that's worse than painting targets on your naked chest in neon. At least if you did that, people would think you were high off spice or something."

She folded her arms and frowned at him while Mical blushed in the background and Bao-Dur rolled his eyes. Visas made no sign as usual. "What do you suggest, then?"

"This is my home turf. I know how to help you blend in – although it'll never be perfect. I'll head out with Bao-Dur and get you all some nice scruffy clothes, all right?" He wondered if her Jedi Master was having problems like that. Although if he deliberately chose to come here, he couldn't have been completely clueless about how to fit in. "I'll be right back."

"All right," she said, but she wasn't happy about it.

He wasn't long, although he was tempted to beat the dockmaster over the head with his own cane – stupid Toydarian kept trying to make the Ebon Hawk put off again. After he spent two hours finding this parking spot.

He brought her clothes, practical, pre-dirtified, and not very feminine. Stars knew he could have brought her lingerie, it wasn't hard to come by if you knew where to look, but that would have served no one's purposes but his own. The way she accepted the clothes without comment and disappeared immediately to change into them made him wonder what her reaction would have been if he _did_ bring lingerie.

She reappeared in a plain brown tunic with a black leather jacket over top; red pants and knee-high boots encased her legs. He looked at her, evaluating whether she should wear a hat or helmet to cover her hair at all.

"Better?" she asked, noticing his stare.

"A little," he answered. "Hide your lightsaber inside the jacket- yes. …It'll never be perfect. You don't stand or move like a local."

"What do you mean?" Mical asked in that annoying earnest way of his. To him, Selyn could never be anything less than perfect, it seemed, and no one was allowed to criticize her in any way. _Brat_.

"You're even worse," he told him. "Everything about you screams 'Republic soldier, please shoot me'. The best you can do right now is slouch a little."

"And pretend that I'm _you_?" Mical demanded derisively.

" _I'm_ still alive," Atton reminded him, and turned back to Selyn. "So what's the game plan, princess?"

"It does not matter where we go," Kreia interrupted in a low voice. "If what we seek is here, we shall come upon it in due time."

"Thanks, your crypticness," he muttered.

.

In the end, Selyn, Kreia, Atton, and both droids left the ship together, while the others stayed behind, at least for the time being. It didn't take long for Selyn to start trying to help people, especially those who asked her for help. Didn't she know what a panhandler was? Especially with that 'I'm a newcomer, fleece me for all I've got' aura she had.

Kreia also took a dim view of this, surprisingly, but for different reasons. "Why do you do such things? Such kindnesses mean nothing, their paths are set. Giving them what they have not earned is like pouring sand into their hands."

Thoughts flicked across Selyn's face too fast for him to read before she settled on a slight, pained frown. "How are their paths set? I cannot see their future, and maybe I've given them a little hope for another day."

Oh, wow. She really believed that, too. No, they'd just rob her over and over and then do the same to the next person to fall for it. Maybe not all of them were bad. But enough were that helping all of them was useless.

"And would that be a kindness?" Kreia asked sharply. "What if by surviving another day, that one brings a greater darkness upon another?" _Yeah, what if someone killed Exar Kun as a baby?_ "The Force binds all things. The slightest push, the smallest touch, sends echoes throughout life. Even an act of kindness may have more severe repercussions than you can know or see. By giving them what they have not earned, perhaps all you have helped them become is a target. Seeing another elevated often brings the eyes of those who suffer. And perhaps in the end, all you have wrought is more pain."

Selyn was silent, her own pain rising in her eyes.

"And that is my lesson to you. Be careful of charity and kindness, lest you do more harm with open hands than with a clenched fist."

"I… cannot believe that, not yet," Selyn said slowly. "But I will think on it."

"Good," Kreia said. "Do so. Use your power, but in its proper place."

"I just feel… there's a hunger in the air. I don't like it." They were in a space between buildings, and the roads wrapped around the buildings, leaving a deep, deep open space between them, and Selyn paused to look into it. _Don't fall in, please_.

"It is Nar Shaddaa, the true Nar Shaddaa, that you feel around you," Kreia said. _Not creepy at all_. "It is the moon, with the metal and machines stripped away and the currents of the Force laid bare. I am surprised you can feel it. I feared the damage to you had deadened you to such perceptions… What you feel is the echo of the minds of these creatures within the Force. Their anger… their greed… their desperation. It is life."

"It is not like life elsewhere," Selyn said, as if that was just a thing people said. Also creepy. What was he doing with two creepy Jedi women again? "Is there not some way to heal this pain and desperation? Visas's master destroyed an entire world through the Force. Is there a way to do the opposite?" _Okay, that was beyond creepy and going into nuts_.

"One might as well heal the universe… but such manipulation is possible, yes. It requires that one feel the critical point in the fractured mass… and know how to strike it such that the echoes travel to your intended destination." That sounded crazy. And impossible.

"But I don't want to manipulate," Selyn objected.

"Then you have learned nothing," Kreia said, harshly. "Healing is manipulation, and if you do not realize it yet, then you will discover that an act of healing depends largely on your perspective. Manipulation is done through propelling events… or selected ones… into motion. It is done through teaching, through example, and through conviction." _Basically, everyone manipulates everyone else, all the time. Yep, that sounds about right. Especially the old bat herself_. "And the greatest of victories are not manipulations at all, but simply awakening others… to the truth of what you believe."

"Query: Did you have acquaintance with my former Master? Because that sounds oddly familiar," the rusty HK unit that followed Selyn asked. Kreia ignored it. Selyn seemed lost in thought.

…And then five minutes later, she was doing it again, saving a guy from getting shaken down by the local gang or whatever.

Kreia was silent, so he guessed it was his turn to try. "I guess the Jedi code is still alive and well," he commented, a little sarcastically. "You know, there are a lot of people who need help in this galaxy. If we stop to help each one, the Sith are going to be on us faster than anything." _Come on, sweetheart. You wouldn't be you if you didn't try to help, but be a bit more guarded about it, all right?_

That seemed to make more sense to her than Kreia's chaos theory argument. _Ha! Score one for Atton! And still ninety-three for Kreia. Frak_.

.

It didn't take long to learn that every bounty hunter in the system was hunting Jedi… and Selyn wasn't going to go unnoticed for long. She tried not to worry about it, but Zez Kai-Ell would not be easy to find here, and the more bounty hunters came after her, the more potential for collateral damage. Kreia – and Atton – might not want her interfering to help people, for various reasons, but she couldn't in good conscience allow them to be hurt or killed, either. Her very presence put them in danger. She should have stayed in the Unknown Regions… but who would stop the Sith, then? Would Vrook or Vash figure something out? Maybe Kavar would have.

Atoning was hard. Life was complicated. She needed to deal with it and keep going without complaining. If she was a sponge for all the hurts of the Force, then that was her role in life.

They'd managed to make a loop of the closest neighbourhood and return to the Ebon Hawk unscathed, which Atton seemed to consider a miracle, when they saw a human man leaning against the entrance to their landing pad.

"Sithspit, what is it now?" Atton swore. "I thought I got the Toydarian off our backs."

"Hey, I saw the ship you flew in on," the man called out as they got closer. "That's my ship."

"Lay off the spice, buddy," Atton told him. "That's our ship, not yours."

"Was I talking to you?" the man snapped, and turned back to Selyn. How he recognized she was the leader, she wasn't sure, but it made things easier. "I tell you, that ship's mine. The Ebon Hawk? Yeah, she was stolen from me during a routine Mid-Rim run near the close of the Mandalorian Wars. The registration's 34-P7JK. She's got a temperamental hyperdrive, and the turrets can be sluggish and unresponsive against fast-moving fighters. She's also got two secret compartments: one's in the back of the cargo hold, and the other's beneath the bunks in the starboard cabin."

She tried not to look surprised. What was she supposed to do with her face on Nar Shaddaa? From the way Atton talked, she wasn't supposed to show any emotion at all, or it would make her a target. "That's all correct, although I didn't know about the cabin compartment."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Atton said, taking a step forward. "He didn't have to get that information from owning the ship. He's skifting us."

"Statement: Master, this meatbag is tiresome and demanding. Request: May I put a blaster bolt in his skull?"

"Hush, HK," she said. "I do not have the means to offer to buy the ship from you, so I will return it to you."

"What!?" Atton exclaimed. "It's our ship! I mean, your ship! That I fly! Do you know how hard it is to find working space-worthy ships here?" T3 also blatted indignantly.

She looked at Kreia, who only said: "It may take some time to discover what you seek here."

"Yes, I will return it to you," she said to the man. "What is your name?"

"None of your business, but it's Derren Krald. Good to hear you aren't going to challenge it, that makes things a lot easier. I'll be going now, but I'll be back in an hour. I want you and your stuff off there by then." He began to walk away.

"Lemme shoot him in the back, no one has to know," Atton seethed.

She put a hand on his arm to try to calm him down, and to her surprise, he subsided quickly. But the Smuggler's Moon was bringing out a sharper side to Atton than she'd seen before. If that was who he'd had to be to survive here, it was understandable, but she liked him better when he didn't have to be.

.

They gathered what few possessions they had and exited the ship. Only Mical seemed pleased with her decision, although neither Visas nor Kreia seemed to care. Atton grumbled constantly, but she could see him thinking at the same time, trying to figure out where they would go next, where they would stay, how they would get new transportation when it was time to leave. She regretted that her decision was burdening him with so much responsibility that he didn't want.

They were in the Refugee Sector, where they went wasn't important. There were possibilities.

Krald returned, and with a cool nod to them, disappeared inside the landing pad's gate.

A few minutes later, before they'd finished sorting their bags outside, a whole troop of Trandoshans appeared, marching purposefully towards the same landing pad.

"I don't like the look of that," Bao-Dur said. "They look like slavers. That other fellow did not."

"So he was in trouble with slavers," Atton grunted. "No wonder he wanted the ship so badly."

To stay, and help someone who had done nothing for them, or to leave, and leave him to a horrible fate? What kind of choice was that? "We should help him."

The three men on her team stared with various degrees of disbelief. "What?" Mical asked. "I mean, you're right, but…"

"Clarification: I believe what your meatbag fanboy is attempting to say is: it is only that meatbag's just reward for taking the ship from us in the first place."

"No, no, I didn't mean that!" Mical cried, flushing red.

Selyn held up a hand for peace. "I didn't give him the ship just so that he could get captured by slavers."

"Or get the ship captured by slavers," Atton muttered. T3 booped in agreement. "Shut up, trash-can."

She gestured. "Let's go, then." They followed her.

The slavers discerned their intent, and without any attempt at speaking, opened fire on them. Selyn had a blaster as part of her 'not standing out' gear, and she used it instead of her lightsaber. The violet glow would draw the bounty hunters to them like flies.

But once the landing pad door shut behind them, once they'd reached the loading ramp of the Ebon Hawk, it sprang to life in her hand and several of the slavers flinched back from it. It didn't save them.

A bigger Trandoshan than the rest stomped towards them. "You dare trespass on the territory of the Red Eclipse? You will suffer no better than this thief here!" He gestured to a crumpled body on the floor by the holoprojector.

"I don't know who the Red Eclipse is, and I don't care," Selyn answered, saber pointed at him. "This ship belonged to him, and therefore he was under my protection. But if you leave now, I will not kill any more of you."

The Trandoshan laughed and fired on her. She deflected it and charged the nearest underling, Visas behind her with her vibrosword.

It was a short, violent fight, and ended with Trandoshan bodies littered everywhere. HK had been in his element, charging into the thick of the fight after her and shooting enemy after enemy with wild war whoops, even after his head got blown off.

She knelt beside the body of the Ebon Hawk's former owner. "I'm sorry," she said softly. Maybe Kreia was right, that 'good' deeds only brought grief – but she couldn't know that. No one could know that.

But in the meantime, a man was dead because she tried to do the right thing… She'd failed to save another one…

.

It took a long time for anything to happen, but suprisingly, he didn't mind, though some of the others were getting cranky at no obvious progress. Apparently their plan for finding her missing Jedi was… well, they didn't have a plan for that. They had several other plans, the main one involving 'ticking off the local mafia until the bounty hunters came and brought Selyn to Goto – the one who had put a bounty on Jedi – and take him out, thereby eliminating the bounty on Jedi and convincing the local Hutt to supply fuel to Telos in one fell swoop'. Easy, right? Not at all.

It had been days already, but like he'd said, he didn't mind. The most important reason was seeing Selyn act like a normal person. After a few more arguments, Kreia had backed off and let Selyn act as she pleased among the refugees packed into shanty towns made of shipping crates, though not without parting words of mumbo-jumbo.

But Selyn was actually sort of happy, for whatever reason, giving medpacks to sick people, finding lost kids, whatever. She almost seemed to glow when she was helping people, a veritable angel among the dim recesses and alleys of this desperate world. She was upset for them and their pitiful state, sure, but apparently she felt like she was doing good work, even if Kreia and he both kind of thought it was a waste. He was just happy she didn't go around looking sad _all_ the time for once. She was too pretty to do that, and she just _had_ to blame herself for everything that went wrong, even though it was hardly ever her fault. Kreia's influence, no doubt. That woman was not good for the mental health. Not that he knew much about mental health.

But no matter where she went, what she did, who she talked to, her small figure was always straight and confident… and heavy, as if she was carrying the galaxy on her slender shoulders, all alone. _Just put it down_ , he wanted to tell her. _Let the galaxy take care of itself_. Which would have been awfully hypocritical, the way he dragged around his own baggage, nursed it in that guilty hole in his heart.

At least they got to eat not on the ship, for once, which was a nice change, even if it was greasy fast food from a hole-in-the-wall stall. Even the presence of whoever else was hanging out with her that day didn't annoy him as much as it usually did.

"So, what do you do for fun when you're not saving the world, blaming yourself for not saving the world, or hanging out with us losers?" he asked as they perched on stools at the noodle stand. "I know it's not pazaak." She was awful at pazaak. T3 was a better player than she was. Scratch that, T3 was a better player than _he_ was, and he hated losing to a droid. Also, she lost her cards.

"We're not on Nar Shaddaa to have fun, no one comes to Nar Shaddaa to have fun," Mical objected.

"Shut up, blondie, I wasn't talking to you." He turned expectantly to Selyn.

"Don't be so rude to Mical," she said calmly.

"Yes, Mom," he teased her saucily. "C'mon, what do you do?"

"No one's asked me that in forever," she said, laughing a little. _Score! A laugh!_ But she was clearly getting her thoughts in order. "Well… observing the universe. Reading. Training. I'm better at dejarik, but I know you hate it."

"Training's not for fun, you do that all the time."

"Reading? What kind of reading?" Of course that would get the kid's attention.

"Is it the naughty stuff?" He leaned over to bump her with his shoulder. She blushed.

"Atton!" Mical exclaimed, scandalized. "She's not _you_!"

"C'mon, even ex-Jedi need an outlet. But you're right, she's too pure and saintly to even think about that." He ladled sarcasm into his words as thickly as he ladled sauce over his noodles.

"No," Selyn said, regaining composure. "It's not naughty stuff." She paused. "It's filthy stuff."

Both he and Mical almost fell off their seats, and she giggled. Honest to goodness, she giggled.

He pointed his chopsticks at her, having managed not to spit-take his food, and talked with his mouth full. "That is an outrageous lie. You can't fool me. You've never touched that kind of thing in your life."

She giggled again, nodding.

"So what do you read?" Mical insisted, and he rolled his eyes. Kid had a one-track mind.

"Oh, natural history, historical fiction, adventures… that kind of thing. There have been some really lovely stories about Nomi Sunrider. Before I left known space, I downloaded as much as I could."

"If I manage to track down a copy of The Adventures of Jolee Bindo, I'm giving it to you," Mical promised. "Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction, and I've heard enough about Bindo to believe it of him."

She smiled and thanked him. Argh, dumb blond, sucking up to her.

"So you didn't expect exile to be very interesting then." He braced himself a little, wondering how sensitive that subject was.

She looked down at her bowl. "Well, just in case. And it's true, after a while I left them alone. Surviving on my planet, exploring my planet, that was interesting enough."

"You were on a deserted planet?"

"As far as I know. I don't know what planet it was, or where it was, or how to get back there. I just knew it was a good place to put the past behind me… and think. Or distract myself from thinking." She trailed off, face growing still.

 _Frak, make a distraction_. "And now you're surrounded by billions of sentients on one of the most metropolized planets in the galaxy, and there's no chance for you to use your no-doubt epic bushwhacking wilderness survival skills here." He shook his head mock-sadly. "Not to mention, all these sentients and you've still only met one attractive man in all of them."

She looked at him. "I've met several, you know."

He wasn't sure whether to be pleased or disgruntled, especially with Mical perking up on her other side. "Well, hell. My infallible plan to seduce you with my ineffable bachelor status and become King of the Jedi has failed, hasn't it. That's how it works, right?"

Mical facepalmed.

She giggled in disbelief. "Your what?"

He had to grin at her lopsidedly. "Just running my mouth, sweetheart." But hey, he liked it when she showed a personality. It reminded him that she was mortal, not just a focal point for the past, present, and future, not just a broken figurehead for everything the Jedi stood for. Hopefully it reminded her, too.

Dinner finished, they paid and went on their way. She took the lead as usual, gliding along the alleys with effortless, tragic grace. He watched her back, watched _her_ as if she'd disappear like a ghost into the ether.

Then one day, his world shattered.

.

She was walking through the refugee sector again, nodding at the people who recognized her. Atton had relaxed a bit about her safety in this area and wasn't spending as much time glued to her side as before – not that she minded him being there! He'd been very helpful ever since they'd arrived, and he seemed to know just what to say to make her laugh. True, he was still rougher, harder-edged than she'd seen him be before, but in this place there wasn't anyone better to come with her.

Her heart ached for the people here. Packed in like cattle, subsisting on scraps, preyed upon by all of the groups that hemmed them in on all sides… it was no way for sentient beings to live. At least they were still alive… But some of them had been trapped there since the Mandalorian War. She hadn't fought that war, hadn't sold her soul, so these people could exchange one hopeless future for another. But there wasn't much she could do about it. And that, too, was life. There would always be impoverished, neglected beings everywhere in the galaxy. There was a reason why the word 'utopia' was made of words that meant 'no place' in three ancient dialects…

"Psst, human! Over here!" A Twi'lek waved her over.

"We have something to sell you! Information!" the other Twi'lek said.

She looked back at Atton and Visas and nodded at them to let them know she'd be all right, then followed the Twi'leks. "How much is it?" She was running a little low on credits, and had been bartering a few odds and ends from around the Ebon Hawk to keep going.

"Actually, no charge," said the first Twi'lek. "You've helped so many here, we thought you just ought to know."

"Your companion, the dark-haired human male, we have seen him here before. That one came to the Smuggler's Moon years into the Jedi Civil War, claimed he was displaced by the war."

"Don't trust him. He is no soldier. He is a killer, to the core."

Selyn blinked and rocked back, her heart racing irrationally. "That's- Atton? But- No. He has done nothing to betray me, and not for lack of opportunity." At least, she thought so. She was good at fighting, but so was he, maybe not enough to take her in a fair fight, but she did not raise her guard to him. But her other companions were with them constantly, especially Mical, who trusted Atton as much as Atton trusted Mical, and it would have been difficult for him to get away afterwards – until now. No, Nar Shaddaa was the best place yet for him to kill her, and he had only been more attentive to her safety than ever. She trusted him.

"His name is not 'Atton'," said the second Twi'lek. "Please, we don't want you to get stabbed in the back."

"How do you know?" Selyn asked, still shaken.

"How do you not know?" returned the Twi'lek. "You are the Jedi, aren't you? It is less easy to see now than it was then, but the way he moves, the darkness about him, the hardness in him, these are all signs. We can't prove it to you. But if you ask him, please be careful."

"I will," Selyn said. "…Have a good day."

.

She waited until they got back to the ship in the evening, where he vanished into the cockpit which was practically where he lived, and then followed him.

"Hey, sweetheart, come to play pazaak?"

The nickname no longer embarrassed her, but it would still have made her smile if not for the cold fear in her heart at what she was about to do. Atton had been with her since the beginning of her journey in known space, her closest friend here and now. If he turned on her… would she be able to forgive herself? "Not… really. Atton, I met someone today."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You meet thousands of people here, every day."

"They said they knew you."

He snorted sarcastically, smirking at her. "Oh yeah? Did they say I owed them credits, too?"

She braced herself, clenching her hands together where she sat in the co-pilot's seat facing him. "They said your name didn't use to be Atton, that you came here during the Jedi Civil War."

He flinched, and his face darkened with anger. "I'm as Atton as Atton will be, and yeah, your 'trusted informant' is right, I did come here during the Jedi Civil War! Me and a lot of other refugees! Is that a problem?"

Her heart was pounding. "I-I'm sorry- I just wanted to know-" What to say that wouldn't make him angrier? Telling him that the Twi'leks had claimed he was a hardened killer certainly wouldn't help. And there was enough pain mixed into his anger that she believed more than ever he never wanted to hurt her.

"Is this an interrogation? Because it's a really terrible one, especially for an ex-Jedi. Why don't you just crawl in my head and try to dig out whatever you're looking for rather than asking about it?"

"I- I wouldn't-"

He snorted derisively. "Don't lie. All Jedi do. You know what? Not once have I asked you about the Mandalorian Wars. Not _once_. I heard about Dxun. Everyone has. I heard about Serroco, and I sure as hell know about Malachor V. What makes you think you've got the right to interrogate me on anything? You've got plenty of lives to answer for – all you Jedi do."

The Twi'leks weren't wrong – there was something there. But that wasn't what defined him now. Was it? "I know."

It was all pouring out now. "How did you even live with yourself after Malachor? Is that why you went back to the Jedi Council? Hoping they'd kill you? Maybe you thought they'd forgive you – sure, you might have thought they'd execute you. But Jedi don't kill do they? At least not their prisoners. Maybe you were counting on it when you went back in chains." He paused for breath. "So you got off easy – you were exiled, brushed under the cargo ramp, another dirty little Jedi secret. I'll tell you – all those Jedi at Malachor?"

She sat very still, her gaze frozen on his smouldering grey eyes, as if any move she made might shatter her. These words were made to hurt her, and they wounded her deeply.

"They deserved it. Every last one of them."

"They did not deserve it," she struggled out. _Atton, please, don't be cruel in your pain_. "No one deserved it."

"They did," he snarled. "You know why? Because Jedi lie. And they manipulate. And every act of 'charity' and 'kindess' they do, you can drag it out squirming into the light to see what it really is. The Jedi… the Sith… you don't get it, do you? To the galaxy, they're the same thing: just men and women with too much power, squabbling over religion while the rest of us burn. At least the Sith are honest about what they're killing for. The Jedi are pacifists… except in times of war. They're teachers… except when it comes to telling their students the truth."

He slumped back in the pilot's seat, his words finally spent. His eyes were tired and hurt and sad, none of their usual light in them. She sat frozen, staring at him, and he watched her, as if wary of her next move.

There was a lot here to absorb, and she closed her eyes to focus on it. How much of what he said was true? A lot of it. Maybe not all of it, not from her point of view, but a lot of it.

She opened her eyes. He was still there, still watching her. "What happened to you?"

"Me?" He seemed surprised, maybe surprised that she was still talking to him. "What, to make me hate Jedi?"

Did he hate her? It hadn't felt like it. "Yes."

His gaze fell to the floor. "I have this habit – I'm a deserter. It's what I do."

"You served the Republic?" she guessed.

"I did. Up until the Republic officers began to 'betray' their oaths to the Republic and side with Revan – Admiral Karath, Mon Halan, General Derred, and all the rest. Right after that final battle at Malachor, I was right there with the rest of the defectors, because it was the right thing to do." He paused. "But it was more than that. You were there, you must have seen how easy it was to hate the Jedi who sat back in the Republic 'evaluating' the threat… and watched us die against the Mandalorians. The Mandalorians were slaughtering us by the millions. The _millions_. You were at Serroco, when they turned the Stereb cities into glass craters. At Duro, when basilisk war droids rained like meteors onto the orbiting cities, and when the Mandalorians set fire to the Xoxin Plains on Ereb III – the fires that still burn. Without the Jedi who turned on the Council – without _you_ , the Republic would have lost the war, and we'd all be either Mandalorian slaves or corpses."

"So you became Sith."

"If that's what you want to call knowing when to fight and when to kill, then yes, but you can't really break down people into Sith and Jedi and expect everything to make sense." His voice softened, as soft now as it had been harsh before. "We were loyal to Revan. She saved us. That was enough."

They both sat in silence for a moment before he went on. "After Malachor, after the Mandalorian Wars, that's when the Sith teachings started spreading through the ranks. We knew where our loyalties lay – to the Jedi who came to help us, not the ones who sat back on Dantooine and Coruscant, watching us die. So when those same Jedi who watched us die decided to start fighting us during the Jedi Civil War, we fought back. I fought back."

"You fought Jedi?" she asked, not really shocked, maybe a little surprised. Atton was good, but she hadn't thought he was _that_ good.

"No. I didn't fight Jedi." He paused for a long time, and seemed to be bracing himself the way she had at the beginning of the conversation. His eyes flicked up and met hers. "I killed them."

There was no emotion there. Anything he felt was completely walled off, so much that those eyes appeared dead. "People say killing Jedi is hard. It's not, you just have to be smart about it. No blasters, no getting close to them, no attacking them directly when you can gun down their allies instead. There's ways of gassing them, drugging them, making them lose control, torturing them. I was really good at it." His voice sank even lower. "What's worse, is that killing them wasn't the best thing. Making them fall… making them see our side of it, that was the best."

Kreia had said something similar when she was talking about manipulation. The similarities frightened her. Selyn had turned to the viewport, not really seeing it or the view beyond it, but unable to face him and the past he loathed. His voice was as cold as his eyes, though, droning on relentlessly.

"When fighting a Jedi, you wound the Padawan first, then let the rest take care of itself. Not only will the master move to protect the student, but the Force bond between the two will mess up the master's head better than any stab wound. If there's no whiny Padawan around, start shooting innocents – not to kill, just enough that they're going to die unless the Jedi does something to save them. And if any Jedi is stupid enough to use their Makashi form against you, start shooting as fast as you can until you drop them while they're exposed. Set mines. Set a lot of them. Fire gas grenades, but make sure they have magnetic lock targetters so the Jedi can't force-push them back." His voice softened again. "I'm not telling you to hurt you. I'm only telling you because you need to know, so you can protect yourself, because I guarantee the people who trained me are not the only ones to think of these."

True. She nodded numbly and forced herself to speak. "Wouldn't they sense you?" But Kreia had said once that he was hard to read.

"I taught myself… techniques. It's hard for Jedi to sense what you're really thinking if you throw up walls of strong emotions and feelings. Lust, impatience, cowardice… most Jedi awareness doesn't cruise beyond the surface feelings, to see what's deeper. And I was good at that, throwing up walls, and my superiors knew it. Sometimes the Jedi on our side wouldn't even realize I was there."

"That's why Kreia says you act like a fool, isn't it."

"Part of it. Maybe it was always me. It's hard to tell sometimes. I haven't known who I am for years." That made two of them.

"I know you left at the Mandalorian Wars, so you don't know much about what went on behind the scenes in the Jedi Civil War. But Revan understood one thing – the real battle was going to be fought between the Jedi on both sides. That was the only battle that mattered. Whoever had the most, the strongest Jedi were going to win the Civil War. If Revan couldn't convert Jedi, then she would kill them. So she trained elite Sith units into assassination squads, whose duty was to go out and capture enemy Jedi. I was in one of the special units trained to do this. I led it. Revan had plans for all the Jedi. I think it was important to her that the Jedi see her side of things, the Sith teachings. She wanted to break them. And then have them join her."

She was silent. Revan had changed much from the beginning of the war up until Malachor V, but she had become even more ruthless afterward, it seemed. Well, Sith were supposed to be ruthless. Had she ever truly known Revan? Their friendship felt more like a passing acquaintance now. She hadn't seen the fall. She had left the military right after Malachor, before any of the other Jedi… and now it seemed that she was the only Jedi to do so.

"I know what you're thinking: 'why are you telling a Jedi you killed Jedi'? Well… I've been with you only a short time, enough to know that as soon as someone signs on with you, they haven't got long to live. You got history, and anyone who travels with you doesn't. And maybe I want somebody to know who I was in case a story needs to be set straight. Maybe you understand."

She wanted to save people, not drag them to their deaths. Was he speaking the truth here, or was it his own hopeless fatalism?

The silence dragged on, engulfing them in nervous contemplation. He had turned to look out the viewport as well, away from her. His fingers tapped gently on the edge of the console. Hers were wrapped around her knees.

"How did you leave the Sith?" she asked quietly.

She heard him swallow. "A… a woman. A Jedi. She… she gave her life for mine. I never knew her name. She sought me out. She said she had come to save me. She was lying, of course – or I think she was. It doesn't matter – she told enough truth to get my attention. She said that Revan was doing something terrible to Jedi within the Unknown Regions. That when we captured Jedi, they were sent to a place designed to… break them. And that anyone in her service who showed any ability with the Force was sent there, too, to turn them, to break them into Dark Jedi… or assassins trained to kill Jedi. She said that's what would happen to me – that I had the Force inside me, that's why I was so good at killing Jedi. And that when the Sith learned of it, there would be no escape, no turning back. I would become an instrument of the Dark Side, forever. I had heard talk in the ranks, troops vanishing. I knew what she meant, but I didn't believe her – or want to believe her."

He swallowed again. "I did what I did with all Jedi. I hurt her. I hurt her a lot. And then, right when I thought she couldn't take anymore – she showed me the Force. In my head. And I felt everything she felt, and I heard just an echo of what the Force was. And how what I was doing…"

He stopped, his voice choked up. "I-I think I loved her, but it wasn't that kind of love. It was the kind of love where you're willing to give up everything for someone you don't even know. …I killed her for crawling in my head, for showing me that. But before she opened her mind to mine, my only thought was that I would love to kill her. And in the end… I killed her because I loved her."

"In the end, she sacrificed herself to keep my secret, to prevent the Sith from knowing about that touch of the Force inside me. She wasted her life to save me. _Me_. And I felt her die, when she opened her mind. I've killed Jedi like I said, but I was never there to feel it, to be on the receiving end."

"So I left them, too. I left my family, I left the Republic, I left the Sith… I don't want to leave you."

She couldn't tell him that he wouldn't. He knew himself far better than she did. She didn't know what to say. There wasn't anything to say to make it feel better, only to show him that she wasn't going to abandon him for his past. He wasn't lost to darkness.

"You've heard it all," he said, tiredly. "All the ugly, twisted stuff that I did, the… _monster_ that I was. And you haven't kicked me out yet. Why?"

"Because who you are is not who you were." She lowered her voice, as if speaking to herself. "I know that as well as anyone. I think we are a lot like, in many ways."

"Maybe."

"You are strong in the Force," she said. "You felt it once. I know you hate Jedi, but…"

"You think I could learn to use it?"

"You could."

"I have been thinking about it," he admitted. "That if I knew, if I learned, maybe I could help protect you. Or at least buy you some time when disaster comes screaming in. …I… I want to learn how to use the Force. I want to learn how to use the Force to protect you."

"Then I will train you, Atton." _I don't want you to leave, either._

She felt tension drain from his body, replaced by slightly nervous anticipation. "What must I do? Is there… some kind of ritual, or something…"

"No ritual," she reassured him. "Close your eyes. Be calm and still. Listen to your breath, to the echo of your thoughts, of your heart, separated from war, separated from hate." In the Force, she reached out to cradle the light of his spirit, nurturing it, strengthening it. "Think of what you felt when you felt the need to help me, to protect me." How to go on? This was second nature to her, even after ten years of exile. Explaining it was difficult. "Listen to the city around us, its currents and eddies." Just a little more, and a touch of her mind would do it. "Awaken."

He sighed deeply, relaxed but upright in his seat, and his mind turned towards her. "Selyn, I- you- it's beautiful. You're beautiful."

"It is beautiful," she said, skipping over the second part. "Try to hold on to that. The Force is Life, and Life is beautiful, even when it doesn't seem like it." _Don't listen to Visas_.

She wasn't prepared for him to open his eyes, turn towards her, reach out and take her hand in his across the central console. Or that his eyes would be so serious and earnest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said, feeling oddly shy.

"Do you know, you're so warm, like the sun, in the Force," he said, and stroked her knuckles once with his thumb. "Thank you for showing me."

Her heart was suddenly beating fast. "You're welcome. …Your homework is to feel the Force, to just get used to it being there for you. Don't try to use it yet. It's a dangerous time to trust yourself to it too much." He was still holding her hand, and for some reason she couldn't pull away. She guessed she didn't want to.

A lop-sided grin was her answer. "No super-powers on day one, huh. That's fine. Wasn't expecting that. What about a lightsaber? I know you bought a couple at the junk-sellers."

"Soon. There's so much to show you, and I'm not sure how much time we have. I'll do my best."

"I will too." He finally let go of her hand. "So… I should get to my homework. Not that I don't want you around, but-" As she stood to go, he turned suddenly to look around at her. "S-Selyn. You're… not mad about… all the things I said? Really?"

"Really," she said. "I'm not unscathed, and it's a lot to take in, but… it must have felt good to let it out, right?" Almost impulsively, she reached out to touch his shoulder. "Your past has shaped you as mine has shaped me, but who you were is not who you are. It's Atton I will train to be a Jedi, not… whoever you were."

"…Jaq," he said, very quietly. "I was Jaq."

"And now you are Atton. Like you said. And… you don't hate me, right? Even though I'm a Jedi?"

He took her hand from his shoulder and kissed it, and she stiffened in surprise. "You… I could never hate you." But he let her go, and with another half-smile turned his chair back to the viewport. "Good night, sweetheart."

"G-good night," she murmured, and turned to go. Her hand was warm, her face was warm.


	6. Part 6: The Lost Jedi

Author's note: Thanks for the nice comments! Atton seems to be attempting to steal the story… I'm maybe almost getting used to writing him in third person instead of first. I spent a lot of time making sure the first half of this chapter was interesting, but then the second half gave me way too much trouble. Bring on the introspection, forget the action!

Atton's barfight was scripted while listening to Run rabbit junk. Swoop bike chase written with DMC's Blue Rose.

.

Part 6: The Lost Jedi

.

He went to bed with his head buzzing, fear and excitement warring within him. He'd told her, and she hadn't killed him. She hadn't even left the cockpit, or even her seat. No matter what he'd said to her, she'd taken it, and all she gave back was a second chance. A real second chance, the best one he'd ever been given. She really meant it, too. He knew she wasn't going to take it back, but emotions faded slowly. So, he was still nervous about seeing her tomorrow.

If any of the others found out what he'd told her… Mical for one would probably murder him.

But to be a Jedi… maybe not all of his boyhood innocence was gone, to look forward to being kind of a superhero. He'd come to hate them for their arrogance, their self-righteousness, their cloistered, illogical hypocrisy. But they were still, in general, supposed to be cool people who helped the needy with their magic powers. As Selyn did.

And Selyn herself… no. How in the galaxy could she and the woman who destroyed Malachor V be the same person? General Tekeri might have committed one of the worst atrocities in recent history… but Selyn was his guiding light. He couldn't hate _her_ , not now that he knew her. She knew some of the hypocrisies of the Jedi and turned away from them, and she certainly wanted nothing to do with the horrors of the Sith. She wasn't some otherworldly immortal. She was as human as he was, and she was living with that, same as he was.

He'd never be a proper Jedi. Maybe he didn't want to be a 'proper' Jedi. Ha, that would be wildly out of character for him, to be one of those sanctimonious dorks. To be like Mical. Mical would be a proper Jedi, if she trained him. All he wanted was the strength to protect her, to see her stand without the weight of Malachor on her. Maybe it was impossible. He wanted to try, anyway. Just this once, to do something right that meant something.

He really hoped he didn't mess this one up by goofing up or running away. That would be his greatest failure. Oh, he'd live if he did it… if that guilt could be called living. And if Kreia didn't catch up to him. Right. Kreia. He needed to resolve a few things with her.

He rolled over in his bunk, reaching one hand up to the ceiling, concentrating again on that warm energy that the Force revealed itself to him as. It seemed to him almost as if he could close his eyes and still see the dorm… no, seeing was the wrong term. He just knew how the room was, and sight and sound and touch all together fell short in their metaphors. And he could dimly feel Bao-Dur's presence from the next bunk, sleeping peacefully. He tried to reach outside of the room and failed to capture specifics. But he could sense the powerful roil of Nar Shaddaa outside the ship, and if he really, really concentrated… that bright spot that was Selyn, somewhere else on the ship, not asleep yet either. No idea how she was feeling, only that she was there.

He'd only started that afternoon. He considered that decent progress.

Suddenly tired, he rolled back over and tried to sleep.

.

She couldn't sleep, replaying those moments in her head over and over, when he'd stroked her hand, when he'd kissed her hand. She'd had romantic feelings before, but it was never the time or place or person to sustain them. She'd been hit on before, by Padawans going through puberty, by soldiers under her command before they learned to respect her. But ten years of exile had left her ill-practiced to deal with… advances. And the feelings they stirred up with them. There had been one person in particular who was special to her…

Atton was different, somehow. He wasn't exactly straight-forward, and normally he was very difficult to read, but he seemed more… real than most of the people in her past had been. Was it because they were older? They might not have much time together, past or future, but 'not much' was more than 'none'.

At first his flirtation seemed to be a joke, to go along with all the jokes he made about hookers and strippers and flirting with every remotely-attractive female who crossed their path – mostly Twi'leks and Togruta. He'd even said that Kreia had been beautiful at one time. But what he'd said to her today, the gentle gestures he'd used… that was not a joke. He genuinely liked her.

And he'd been honest with her. Certainly, she started it, but he didn't have to tell her about his past. Whoever he had been, whoever 'Jaq' had been, she was certain that the Atton that she knew was the real one now.

Did she love him? The Jedi Order taught that love, and all other strong emotions, could have terrible consequences and were therefore to be avoided. She'd done her best to follow that, when she was younger. But she no longer equated 'falling in love' with 'falling to the Dark Side'. Love was part of Life was part of the Force. Humans in particular could no more avoid loving than they could breathing, even the most hate-filled and broken of them. Love's negative hangers-on, lust, jealousy, envy, could certainly drive a person to do terrible things… but love itself could also drive them to do great things. She loved everyone on her crew, even HK to some extent, but she had to admit at least to herself that Atton was special to her. He stood at her side always, defended her even against his own inclinations, made her laugh. And was really good-looking. _Don't start thinking about his eyes_.

Wasn't that the essence of a Force Bond? Wasn't she good at creating Force Bonds because she loved too easily? Or was that getting too philosophical? In that case, how was she so tightly bonded to Kreia, whom she had not known before? Did Kreia love her so much?

What should she do? Did she dare nurture these feelings, counter to everything she'd been taught, to see where they led? Or should she shut them out and focus on her mission, her destiny, instead? Would her feelings do as they pleased and grow in spite of whatever she decided? Would these feelings drive one or other of them to the Dark Side, caught up in the drama and the tragedy of the galaxy, the echoes of the past, with no chance for a stable life for either of them? Or would it keep them strong as they believed in each other?

She could not guess at the answers to any of these questions, and some of them were definitely getting ahead of herself. Whatever she did, she didn't want to lose him as a companion, as a friend. She could see this journey through without him… but she didn't want to. Even if he was a danger to her.

Kreia, she knew, did not approve of him in the slightest. But if she couldn't prevent it, Kreia certainly couldn't.

 _His mouth had been dry but warm against her fingers, with just the faintest roughness of stubble on his chin_.

Would she ever sleep that night? Force, she was such a teenager. She'd have to lock all of this away so Kreia couldn't pick at it – _good luck with that_ , she told herself – or at least so as not to confuse Atton. She'd acknowledge these feelings to herself and see what he did next. Maybe he would do something that would help her over her fear of this decision.

.

He stalked down the Ebon Hawk's corridor to the women's dorm, smacked the door control to let him in, then smacked it again to close it behind him. It was empty except for one figure kneeling on the floor; the rest were out.

"Why are you here?" Kreia demanded quietly.

 _It's too early in the morning for existential questions_ , he quipped in his head. "Because I told her, I told her everything."

"Ah. And now you are free?"

"Yeah. So no more threats, no more of your 'requests.' You and me, we're done." If he was coming along on this suicide expedition – and he sure as hell intended to – he wanted it to be entirely of his own free will. He only had one master: Selyn. Not Kreia.

Kreia slowly stood and turned to face him, and he felt his gut turn cold at the regal intensity of that unseen gaze. "Did you ever think I truly held you? You are more of a fool than I thought. What truly held you was you – and let me show you why. I once held the galaxy by the throat… as you held _her_ by the throat, and let her die slowly. And your emotion at that point is what you fear."

It was. It was, and the fact that she had a leash not just on him but on his _fear_ was turning his heart into ice now. He was as much a fool as Kreia said he was, to think it was so simple to escape her.

That dry, unemotional whisper droned on, boring into his skull. "I can unlock that part of you anytime I wish. It is a simple thing, the human mind; once it feels something strongly, it becomes etched in the memory, the subconscious. Shall I show you? That part of you that hungered to kill Jedi, that took pleasure from it? Or perhaps you will continue to listen to my counsel and I shall ignore your pathetic attempts at freedom."

 _No. No, he was good. No demonstrations, thanks_. That nameless Jedi, Selyn, they were getting all mixed up in his head. She had been a Mon Cal, but features and skin blurred and melted in his memory until he was left with human skin, smooth black hair, and big brown eyes, staring up at him with no hint of betrayal, only a deep sadness as his hands locked around her neck. He stared in horror, although now he couldn't tell if he was looking at Selyn's face or Kreia's mocking disinterest.

She finally turned away and he dared breathe again, shades of the past clearing from his vision. "Now leave me, murderer. I have nothing more to say to one such as you."

He scrambled for the door control and beat a rather undignified retreat.

.

He wondered if Selyn knew that something was wrong when he joined her and Visas later that day for Jedi training or whatever for the first time. He was counting flickers in the lights overhead, just in case. But she didn't say anything, only looked pleased that he was there, and slowly the coldness began to leave him. But there would always be a core of dark fear inside him that no meditation could undo.

He tried to explain a little of it, while Visas was solidly meditating and not paying any attention to him – at least that he could tell. "I don't know if this is going to work. I know you said something about a Jedi not having fear, but I've got too much baggage to let go of my fear."

She looked at him with a supportive smile. "It's a work in progress for everyone. You've only just begun."

"That sounds like tripe," he grumbled, disappointed that she'd try comforting nonsense on him, and she shrugged, the smile fading.

"Maybe it is. Only a perfect being could overcome the limits of personality, background, even biology to truly be without fear, and I don't know about you, but I'm not perfect. Not even Jedi are perfect. As you know well enough." She fixed her eyes on his. "It's like they say, though – that a brave person is not the one without fear, but the one who knows they are afraid and does what they have to do anyway." There was a hint of a self-deprecating smile on her face as she said it. What was she afraid of? Besides the whole saving the galaxy thing?

He grimaced. "Then I've never been brave."

"That's not true," she said softly. "And your… baggage will never leave you. Maybe it will never feel lessened, even. But you will find it easier to carry."

He looked at her, trying to read in her eyes whether that was really true for her. He couldn't tell. He knew how to read fear, and lies, anger, hate, lust. But of course he saw none of those things now, only earnest seriousness, and his fumbling touch in the Force only showed her to be just as warm and bright as she'd been the day before when he 'saw' her for the first time.

When all else failed, just ask. It wasn't as if she'd get mad at him after yesterday. "Is that true for you?"

"Yes. And no. But mostly yes."

"Very helpful."

She frowned at his sarcasm, trying to find the words. "It… is easier in that I don't feel like killing myself every day. It's not easier in that I keep running across things that remind me of it, but I have the strength to keep going now." She stopped abruptly, and he didn't push further, not now.

When they began to meditate again, he reached out to her apologetically, and her presence brushed his briefly, reassuringly. She wasn't mad. She just didn't want to talk about it anymore.

.

When they went out into the underbelly of Nar Shaddaa, she used their surroundings as a constant teaching opportunity. He thought he knew the place pretty well, but he was surprised at how many quiet spots she was able to find just around to catch a moment of meditation in. And it seemed that she was doing this much more often than before. For his benefit? He didn't mind. He had to get good fast.

Even after a couple days, it was getting much easier to sense the Force, to sense it all around him. When they got in alley fights, which still happened on a daily basis, it was like he knew what his enemy was going to do, and his speed, his reflexes were even better than they'd ever been. Also his aim was better, and it wasn't too shoddy to begin with, either. It was weird, to give up control in a way, to gain even more control.

She was pretty good at this Jedi training stuff. He told her so.

She shrugged. "I…'ve never done it before. I hope it works out. It's actually very arrogant of me to be doing this in the first place."

"What, is Kreia giving you a hard time about setting up your own little Jedi Academy?"

"No, actually, and that confuses me."

"I told you it was gonna happen, as far back as Peragus."

She chuckled. "I suppose you did. I thought you were joking."

"I was. You just _had_ to go and take me seriously, didn't you?"

"I take everything seriously, especially you."

Her slight smile was teasing, but he had to wonder how much truth there was in her words, and if he dared hope… "More than Kreia?"

"No. Kreia's older than you. More life experience. Didn't you know you should listen to your elders?"

"Dang. I'm pretty sure I'm a standard year or two younger than you."

"Good thing I'm the teacher, then." She seemed so innocently pleased with herself he had to grin.

.

He supposed he shouldn't be jealous when she asked first Mical and then Bao-Dur to be Jedi, too, when the blond and the Zabrak started showing up to their meditation sessions. It really was turning into a mini Jedi Academy. But he couldn't help the little zing of satisfaction that _he_ was her first – besides Visas, who kind of didn't count because she had already been partly trained when she arrived. No, he was her first student, and Mical was not, and he knew it was very un-Jedi to think that, and he couldn't help it. The least he could do was not mention it to Selyn. Although he was pretty sure she knew. Good as he was at hiding things, she was getting to know him and his moods and his body language too well, especially regarding his competition.

He was greedy and selfish. He wanted her all to himself. The others, did they feel the same way, or was it just him?

But it was also a mark of pride when, a week later, she gave them all their first lightsabers; she'd been teaching them to spar with vibroswords up until that point. It had been a while since he'd had to use his close combat skills… the ones he'd trained in when he was an assassin… But he was a new man now, right? He was using these skills for Selyn now. Didn't truly matter where they came from. He hadn't been too shabby at it, back then, although he'd relied more on his wits and tactical planning. Even now, if the situation called for a blaster or a grenade, he was going to use it. But this was important too. The Sith were still out there somewhere, and they seemed fond of melee combat.

He hefted the silver hilt in the palm of his hand. "Aren't I supposed to make my own?" he asked.

"No time, and no resources, not when we already have these. But you are going to learn how to take it apart and put it back together, just like your blaster."

"Fair enough."

His was yellow. Mical's was green, Bao-Dur's was a different shade of green, and Visas' was blue. He wasn't sure why, but yellow seemed to suit him very well. He wasn't totally sure he trusted Visas with a 'saber yet, though.

"I think you could use two," Selyn said. "You use two blasters, right?"

"I can use two," he said. He'd used twin vibroblades on occasion. "But for now I'll just keep using my blaster in my off-hand."

Actually using his blaster in his off-hand was trickier than it sounded. The lightsaber had so little mass in comparison he felt unbalanced. But it would have been more unbalanced to use 'saber and vibrosword.

She pushed him hard in his training, and he welcomed it. Blind obedience might be an easy master, as Kreia had once said, but did he like it? Hell no. A woman who challenged him, who was better than him and treated him as an equal, who, despite knowing his past, trusted him for whatever insane reason… not an 'easy' master, but a satisfying one.

.

She had been out with Atton, Bao-Dur, and T3, when she got a call from Mical on board the ship. "We just received a message on the comm that I think everyone should hear."

"I understand," she said. "We'll be right back." She nodded to her companions and they turned to follow her quickly.

They gathered in the common room of the Ebon Hawk, and Mical set the message to playing. A hologram of a Quarren appeared above the projector. "Welcome to Nar Shaddaa, Selyn Tekeri. I regret that this message has taken so long to reach you, but I only recently became aware of your presence here. I am Visquis, a representative of an… exchange of shipping interests here on the smuggler's moon. I am extending an invitation to you to join me in my private lounge within the Jekk'Jekk Tarr, where we may speak without being disturbed. I wish to discuss something of mutual interest concerning your past profession – and prospects for the future." The Quarren hesitated, as if about to end the recording, then said: "Oh, and do come alone – one human in my presence at a time is enough." The recording ended.

"Well, good thing it's not a trap," Atton said sarcastically.

"No, Atton, I think it may actually be a trap!" Mical said with complete seriousness.

Atton rolled his eyes. "Would you _please_ lighten up for just one second?"

"It may be a trap, but traps work both ways," Kreia said. "You should probably not keep this Visquis waiting. If you have attracted his attention, you have probably attracted the attention of others as well."

Selyn nodded and checked her pockets. She had her blaster, her lightsaber… "Wait, the Jekk'Jekk Tarr doesn't have a human-friendly atmosphere."

"There's an envirosuit in the cargo bay," Bao-Dur offered. "One moment and I'll get it for you." He returned in a minute with a bulky backpack case. "It's space-worthy, so some fumes should be no problem."

"Thank you, Bao-Dur." She hoisted it onto her shoulders. "I think I'm set, then. Sit tight and don't get into trouble while I'm gone."

"We will," Mical assured her.

"Yes, Mom," Atton teased.

She nodded to them all and set off down the ramp.

.

But he knew more than anyone how much danger she was in right now, and when the others weren't watching, he slipped out and ran after her. "Hey."

"Atton?"

"…Look, I just wanted to tell you to be careful. I won't be able to contact you via the comlink if something happens, and I'm betting that squid-head knows it." He dug in a pocket and held out a bunch of antidote packs he'd raided from the medbay. "Look, take these. If your suit gets breached, you'll need to inject them fast if you don't want your lungs to seize up. And trust me – once the seizures start, you'll be dead."

She nodded solemnly. "I'll remember. Thanks, Atton. …You're not going to wait on the ship, are you?"

She knew him too well, and he had to grin. "Nah. I've got things to keep an eye on out here. Watch yourself, and… uh… don't take too long." He hesitated, then reached out, tilting her face up with a finger under her chin and kissing her forehead through her bangs.

Her face was pink and her eyes were anxiously curious when he pulled back a moment later, and that made him feel awkward now too. "Uh. Yeah. I'll see you later."

"Be careful, Atton." The moment had already passed, she was back in control and her face showed nothing of whatever she was feeling right now. She nodded to him and trotted off determinedly.

"Hell yeah I will," he muttered, marching in the direction of the cantina.

.

She rounded a corner and came face to face with a smugly smiling red-haired woman. "So, you're the Jedi everyone's been talking about. You don't look so tough to me."

A bounty hunter, as far as she could tell. Or maybe someone with a message, metaphorical or otherwise. "I am no Jedi… but I'm tougher than I look." Was she really not a Jedi, if she could feel the Force, if she followed their code? No, they had exiled her, and she did not belong to them.

The woman snorted. "I thought Jedi were supposed to be smart, and here you are running around Nar Shaddaa sticking your lightsaber in everyone's business. What, were you planning to save everyone on this moon? You're attracting more attention than a fleet of Sith warships."

"I have a meeting with someone," Selyn said. "So if you don't mind, could we continue this conversation later? I'll give you my comm channel."

The redhead's smile dropped, replaced by deadly intensity. "I know you're meeting with Visquis. If I know about it, that means everybody else on this moon knows about it – or will soon enough. And when that happens, the bounty hunter truce is off. That means things are going to get really ugly, really quick."

"I can handle it," Selyn said.

"I think your friends are the ones in danger."

"And you want to help me?" she asked skeptically.

"In a way. But I don't want to discuss it out here. C'mon, I have a safehouse around the corner."

Getting sidetracked could be bad for meeting with Visquis… but she didn't sense any hostility from the woman, and keeping her friends safe was more important to her right now. She followed the woman. "Who are you?"

"Name's Mira. I'm the best bounty hunter in this system, and that's not me bragging, that's fact. I've had you in my sights since you landed. This way." They went down a ladder, across two small bridges, down another ladder, and finally down a stairwell to a dingy, smelly corridor. Mira checked to see that no one was watching, then unlocked a door and gestured Selyn inside.

The smell was much stronger in there, but Selyn wrinkled her nose and put up with it. "All right. What do you propose?"

"I know that squid-head Visquis sent you a message to meet him in the Jekk'Jekk Tarr. He works for Goto, and it's a trap. No surprise there. Thing is, he intends to cut the bounty hunters out of the loop and deliver you to Goto personally. Not smart from where I'm standing. That's why you're going to stay here and I'm going to go meet him in your place."

"What?" Selyn blinked and almost choked on the exhaust smell. It was making her light-headed; she shouldn't stay here long. How did Mira stand it? "And do what? Talk him out of it? And what makes you think I'll let you put yourself in danger like that, bounty hunter or no?"

Mira smiled. "Well, actually, you don't have much of a choice. I know you've noticed the stench in here. All the freighter exhaust from the docks, you know. Some aliens actually like breathing it, if you can believe it. But it's like a sedative for humans. Anyone without olfactory blockers like me is going to start feeling dizzy and eventually fall unconscious…"

Selyn didn't hear her finish her sentence; reeling, she stumbled towards the door and fell forward on her face.

.

The local bar was good for two things: a seemingly limitless supply of juma juice, and a decent view of the square outside. Atton sauntered boldly up to the bar and leaned on it. "Gimme a hit of juma, and keep 'em coming." The place wasn't too crowded, since it was still the middle of the day, but he wasn't wanting for attention, some of it curious, some of it… a little less friendly.

And within seconds, as he'd guessed, he felt female fingers caressing his shoulders on both sides. He snagged his drink and turned to face the scantily-clad Twi'lek women with a grin. "Well, well, looks like staying on the ship was definitely a bad idea. You two have names? You work here, or…?"

"We are dancers, yes," purred one in Rylothean, sliding sinuously under his left arm, her orangish lekku falling into her cleavage in a really distracting manner.

"Slaves once, now no longer," the other said, still stroking his other shoulder with slender blue fingers. "I am Seer'aa."

"And I am Teer'aa. You are looking for something – perhaps us?"

These girls were hopelessly transparent. "Sure, yeah. What'll it cost me?"

They shook their heads, smiling, lekku twitching eagerly. "Nothing of value. We only wish to get to know you, handsome stranger."

If he had a credit for every time he'd heard that line. "You wanna grab a booth over there?"

They led him to a booth, taking care not to spill his drink, and settled him in, one of them massaging his shoulders – really well, he had to admit – the other draping herself over his lap. Tight leather pants and corset-laced bras were everywhere, and a few months ago, that would have been great. But now it was difficult to get too distracted when he was thinking about leather jackets and red tights.

He knew not to get too relaxed anyway, not to fall for their sensual seduction. How old were these girls? They probably had the combat moves, but subtlety they didn't got. Yeah. He could take 'em. After he'd bought Selyn a decent amount of time to move without their attention on her. _Pretend to be relaxed, but ready to move on a hair-trigger_.

"So…" he drawled after a couple minutes. "You do this to all your targets?"

Quick as a flash, the one on his lap, Seer'aa, had a vibrocutter to his throat while the other seized his shoulders to hold him still. "We only wish the beautiful Jedi," she said with a mock-sweet smile. "Submit and stay… or else we shall kill you and find other bait."

His answering grin was almost a sneer of self-assurance. "Why don't you two schuttas try it, and we'll see what happens?" Yellow eyes widened in surprise and fury.

 _Headbutt the one behind him. Juma in the face of the one in front of him. Vault the table, tip it over, draw blaster and lightsaber_.

Amber yellow hummed to life in his right hand as he sent a volley of shots towards the girls with the other. Bar patrons, scrambling with evident practice for cover – it was Wednesday, after all – suddenly froze and stared, for just an instant, before racing for the exit. He heard cries of "Jedi!" and grinned. This would definitely get the bounty hunters off Selyn's back.

The Twi'lek girls had recovered from the surprise he'd given them and were coming after him, vibroswords in both hands for both of them. He kept them honest with a few more shots, then parried the one who'd closed more quickly with him. He couldn't flip around like Kashyyyk tachs, like they could, but he'd played this game before. _Just keep backing up until one of them makes a mistake, keep them both in view. If they try to flank, shoot out a light or something to distract them and reverse course. And for stars' sake, don't hit a bystander or Selyn will get her sad face on_.

Their teeth were bared in bloodthirsty smiles. They thought they were predators. "Heh. Good thing I didn't have both of you pegged as assassins as soon as I walked in here. I didn't realize so many bounty hunters had turned their trade into murder, but I guess you two are so desperate you'll turn to anything for a quick credit." At least they weren't taking hostages. It would be pretty pathetic if they started taking hostages… to take a hostage.

"You know nothing of us, treacherous human," hissed Teer'aa. "We hunt for the pleasure of it."

"I'm the treacherous one?" He smirked, one eyebrow raised. Frak, they had him pinned between them; his lightsaber held off Teer'aa for now, locked with both her vibroblades while Seer'aa charged him from the other side. He gave a flick of his wrist, twirling Teer'aa's guard around until his 'saber was free, and shooting under his right arm for good measure before jumping back as Seer'aa's blades whipped through the air he'd just occupied.

 _Thanks, Force_. If he hadn't had even as much rudimentary training as he did, he would have been too slow there. They were brilliant fighters, almost as good as Jedi; this was was going to be hard. They'd drawn back a bit to observe him, and the three of them circled slowly, poised and alert. He twirled his 'saber, making the hum flange with a distracting display of colour, waiting for them to make their move, his blaster tracking first one and then the other.

Without any obvious signal, they simultaneously swooped in from either side; he was running out of space behind him and rolled back over another table, kicking it towards them. Seer'aa vaulted it and he shot a volley at her; a bolt caught her in the upper left chest and she went down flailing.

Teer'aa shrieked piercingly and dove at him, and he had to holster the blaster hastily and take the lightsaber in both hands to gain the strength and control to hold her off. She'd lost most of her grace in her emotion, hacking at his guard like she had a pair of Gammorrean war-axes instead. He'd made a mistake in being too accurate, in finishing off Seer'aa too quickly; now Teer'aa had no reason to hold back. He slid back into the middle of the room, giving himself more space, snagging one of Seer'aa's swords along the way. _Two can play at the dual-wielding game, sister_.

Parry, parry, parry, counter-attack. She was giving him a rhythm; the question was, when would she break it? And could he break it first?

 _Danger_ , screamed his subconscious, and he flung himself backwards in time to avoid getting slashed across the chest. The upper hand was now hers and she was chasing him back, and he let her. _Discretion is the better part of valour. If it wasn't for the fact that leaving her alive with a death grudge would be incredibly stupid, I'd be running for the streets already_. Instead, he waited, and watched, and parried, waiting for her to make her own mistake. He sure as hell wasn't going to beat her down with skill alone.

In her rampage she swept up a heavy bar-glass and flung it at him; without even thinking, he ducked and heard it smash behind him; droplets of juma sprayed over him. _Hey, wait. Let her do that again_. There was some space between them now, and he picked up a glass of his own to hurl back; she flipped out of the way and grabbed another glass.

He was ready. He put all his concentration into it, and the glass came to a halt in mid-air. He felt additional sweat break out on his forehead – _didn't Selyn say using the Force shouldn't be hard work? Must be doing it wrong still_ – but she had hesitated, staring in disbelief. He _pushed_ , and the glass moved halfheartedly towards her.

It was enough. She was fixated on the unexpected retaliation when his lightsaber slashed across her ribs and she shrieked again, curling reflexively over the wound before dropping to the floor and lying still.

He stepped back, turning off the lightsaber and dropping the sword, and glanced at both unmoving bodies. _Well, that's it. The bounty hunter truce is off. It's going to get real bad, real fast_. He looked up at the bartender, who was just emerging from cover. "Send the bill to the Ebon Hawk, landing pad 673. I gotta run, my friend's in trouble." The bartender nodded mutely, nervously staring at his jacket where he'd stowed his lightsaber again.

Once outside, could he lose himself in the crowd? He had to get back to the ship before another yahoo or bunch of them came along.

There was a shout, and a blaster shot came zinging by in his direction. Bystanders yelled and scattered. _Fraaaaak. Over there! Swoop bikes!_

Even as he found the catch for the swoop bike's control panel and ripped the cover off, digging for wires inside, the blaster shots were getting closer, and there were a lot of them. _Hurry up, hurry up_ … The engine grumbled into action beneath him, and he seized the controls and kicked it into high gear. This was definitely not a bunch he could outfight, only outrun. Not without back-up, anyway.

Even as the bike screamed off down the street and into a warren of tunnels through the skyscraper ahead, several more swoop bikes settled in behind him. He dared a look back. Duros, definitely gunning for him. The Zhug clan, probably. Geez, what a day. And if he read the situation right, the 'day' was just getting started.

He leaned low over the handlebars and pulled a ninety-degree turn into a new passage without braking. Shots were tracking him, and he kept the bike juking and dancing, weaving through the tunnels and oncoming traffic at the highest speed he could pull out of the thing. Which wasn't a bad speed at all. The engine thrummed under him, vibrating his body comfortingly. He liked this bike. Maybe he'd keep it afterwards. If he got through this intact.

He slewed around another corner, G-forces trying to drain the blood from his head, but he kept on course, cutting off a van and sideslipping to put it between himself and his pursuers. The streetlights, vehicle lights, and blaster bolts blurred into long shining lines around him. A new growl of engines on his right alerted him to a new set of bikes, poised to intercept him. They knew these particular tunnels better than he did. If he stayed here, they'd shoot him sooner or later. _Time to bring out the crazy_.

The exit to open air was just ahead. Surely they'd be coordinating, waiting for him to come shooting out at his best speed.

He slammed on the brakes and killed the repulsors.

The swoop drifted, seeming to glide gracefully through the air without propulsion of any kind. It floated out through the tunnel exit and to the edge of the road.

He wrestled with the controls, pointed the nose straight down and gunned the engine. It came back to life with a roar, flirting with gravity and protrusions on the side of the building. A volley of heavy blaster fire barely missed his tail, and he was gone into the depths of the city.

.

Selyn was dreaming. A moustached figure was standing over her, and a vaguely familiar voice was filtering into her ears.

"When I first heard you were on Nar Shaddaa, I didn't quite believe it. I didn't think anyone could track me here, but I see I underestimated you." The figure paced. "I have watched you as you have traveled the Refugee Sector. I've seen what you have done… what I refused to do. Even exiled, you are more a Jedi than I." It turned to her, nodding resolutely. "If anything, know that your actions have convinced me I can stand by and watch no longer while the Exchange closes its grip on this sector. A friend has gone to meet Visquis in your stead, and I intend to rescue her. I will return shortly, or not at all." It turned and vanished.

What a strange dream. At least the air didn't stink anymore in her dream. She closed her eyes again.

.

He brought the stolen swoop bike to a skidding stop in front of the Ebon Hawk's landing pad and breathed an exasperated sigh. The Duros had continued to chase him for miles before he managed to finally lose them. Still, he knew they were coming straight here after they gave up looking for him. "Hey! Hey! We need to move out!" He'd pay that bartender later. Like, tomorrow.

Mical stuck his head out from the medbay. "What is wrong? What is happening?"

"The truce between the bounty hunters is off. There's going to be war. A trap in the Jekk'Jekk Tarr is bad enough, but having a hundred bounty hunters on your back is somethin' else."

"We cannot disrupt the meeting until the alien has given up his information to the Exile," Kreia objected.

Screw the information. "They're coming after _us_ , not her. We need to get out of here, or get ready for a big fight."

"If they're coming after us, they will be after her as well. We must rescue her!" Mical was already heading for the ramp, lightsaber inside his sleeve, blaster rifle in hand.

That made him pause. For once, the brat was right. "Yeah… you're right. But I'm guessing we're in a lot more trouble than she is."

"What makes you say- oh." Bao-Dur had followed the others down the ramp, and stopped at the sight of forty Duros all lined up across the entrance to the landing pad.

Mical, Bao-Dur, Visas, HK, even T3 were ready for them. Atton turned back into the ship. "Going to come help, your majesty?"

He already knew the answer: silence. This wasn't her problem.

The leader of the Duros was gargling something at them while he was distracted. "Anybody here catch that? All I understood was 'very.'"

"I think he wanted us to give up Tekeri to his poorly trained collection of bounty hunters," Bao-Dur quipped softly.

He smirked. "Which one do you want?"

Bao-Dur's answering smile was like a cloud-shadow on Dantooine's plains. "I'll take the stupid one who decided to threaten us rather than shoot us when he had the chance."

Four lightsabers blazed in the darkness beneath the Ebon Hawk.

.

Selyn stood in the centre of Visquis's lair beneath the Jekk'Jekk Tarr, breathing hard, and looking with a not altogether friendly eye at the Quarren who stood before her. "You have finally arrived, both much sooner, and much later than I had hoped."

"No thanks to you," Selyn said crossly. She'd expected it, but it was still distressing to have to fight and kill an entire bar full of aliens with nothing more than the Force to protect her against the chemicals inside. "Where is Mira?"

"I had hoped you would have seen the other human on your way in. I cannot say where she might be. But let us dispense with the pleasantries. You are, after all, human, and therefore impatient. Based on your actions alone, I take it you are not familiar with the organization I serve… or my responsibilities. I run the Refugee Sector – I decide what happens here, I control the flows and currents of this sector. You have caused a great deal of trouble for the Exchange here on Nar Shaddaa, and I wish to know why."

"The Exchange has put a bounty on Jedi, and I want it lifted."

"So you are the Exile mentioned in the coreward database. It seems my squeezing of the Refugee Sector has yielded success, after all." The Quarren rubbed his fingertips together in an expression of satisfaction. "My soon-to-be-deceased boss, Goto, is the one who placed the monumental sum of credits upon your head. Your price is so high that any bounty hunter who captures you would be able to buy their own planet. You must have angered Goto greatly for him to hunt you so." Impressive, but meaningless, if not downright annoying. "And that is why you are the perfect bait."

Sickly green gas began rising from the floor around her with a hiss. She stood perfectly still and stared him down.

"Oh… the gas… But it…" The Quarren panicked. "Attack! I order you to attack the Jedi!" Black-armoured soldiers filed in and she raised her violet lightsaber… but they ran towards the Quarren and surrounded him.

A new, nasally voice spoke from an overhead speaker. "While the Jedi remains on Nar Shaddaa, my eyes shall watch over her."

The Quarren sputtered, but it was too late. Before Selyn could intervene, the soldiers had fired on him and he fell, smoke rising from a dozen wounds.

"What an amusing Jedi specimen you are," mused the voice from the speakers, and Selyn had a sudden feeling of danger.

She could fight soldiers. She could resist gas if she knew it was there. But a massive electric discharge from nowhere was not something she could fight, and she went down and out again.

.

They'd arrived at the Jekk'Jekk Tarr too late, he already knew in his gut. The lightsabers were hidden so as not to alarm the locals and bring too many enemies down on them, but there was a red-headed woman stripping out of Selyn's envirosuit at the entrance to the bar, or one that looked exactly like it.

He pointed his blaster at her. He was taking no chances. "Who are you and what are you doing with that?"

The woman looked up as if she was not surprised by him in the slightest. "You're running a little late. Visquis is dead, but his trap worked, and your friend is already with Goto – and that means no bounty for me. There's no way to get her back as far as I know; no one knows how to reach Goto except Visquis, and that squid-head died beneath the Jekk'Jekk Tarr. The only way to reach Goto is if we had a Jedi, but now, he's got your friend, he doesn't have anybody else he wants captured."

Well, that was just insulting, after all the work all of them had put in over the last couple weeks. "What was your role in all this?"

"My name's Mira and I was actually trying to keep your friend out of this trap." She grimaced. "By blundering into it myself like an amateur. Look, I'll help you get your friend back."

"What? You're obviously one of the bounty hunters after her!" Mical exclaimed.

"That's right, and I don't like getting cheated. Now, are we going to make a plan, or are you going to sit on Nar Shaddaa and stew about it?"

.

He crouched by the doorway, painstakingly messing with the wires inside, while Mical stood watch for him. He was beginning to have to admit, the brat wasn't bad in a fight. Even helpful to have along. And despite their perpetual and probably eternal animosity over their differing personalities and unspoken rivalry over Selyn's attention, it could have been his imagination but he thought maybe Mical was coming to respect him too.

As if proving his usefulness, Mical raised his rifle to his shoulder and blasted a droid in the face as it stepped around the corner. Mira and HK were on the other side, shooting away at their own targets.

And then the blond opened his mouth. "Aren't you almost done yet?"

Forget that respect nonsense. Atton hated his guts. "Shut up, this is sophisticated crap. It's not like Republic security at all."

"Republic security is good!" insisted the Republic fanboy.

"Not compared to criminal overlords' it ain't. Ah, got it!"

The door slid open and HK stomped inside, swinging his rifle this way and that, but there were no hostiles present here. Only _her_. "Declamation: Master, the sight of you alive and in one piece fills my heart with extreme joy. Amendment: At least, that is the sentiment of all the irritatingly squawking meatbags accompanying me."

She was kneeling on the floor even though there were seats nearby, meditating, but as their group entered, watching behind them for pursuit, she rose with a gentle smile. "You made it." She looked tired, and like she'd suffered burns, although the blisters on her hands already looked faded. Force healing, no doubt. But he felt his hackles rise. If this Goto had tortured her…

He couldn't show that kind of emotion in front of her. It was bad for his Jedi mental health or something. "What, you were worried?" he joked instead. She smiled at him, and at Mical, and even the assassin droid, but turned her full attention to Mira.

"And you came too. Thank you. I was looking for you under the Jekk'Jekk Tarr, and I was so worried…"

"What were you worried about?" Mira demanded. "Number one, I'm a bounty hunter, I can take care of myself. Number two, we should get out of here before reinforcements come."

"True."

"Number three, it's weird for a target to be worrying about her hunter," Mira muttered, more to herself than to us. "What, do you get Stockholm Syndrome really easily?"

"Statement: Given past data, it would be entirely in character for my Master to exhibit such behavior. Only thank whatever imaginary deities you hold dear that she has not asked you to join her collection of Jedi yet."

"Ha, me, a Jedi?" Mira laughed. "I'm no Jedi." She looked at Atton. "Of course, some of you don't seem like Jedi either, but you've got the laser swords. Guess anyone can be Jedi these days now that they've all disappeared."

He glared at her. "What are you looking at me for!?"

Selyn was suspiciously silent. _Wonderful_.

"We found your lightsaber," Mical said, but before he passed it over, his eyes widened. "What happened? You were injured?" He began inspecting the burns on her hands, holding them gently and turning them over. Atton felt a jealous pout coming on. _Quit it_ , he told himself. _The kid has medical training. Not that he's not enjoying showing her attention to the fullest, too_.

"Electrical trap knocked me out in the Quarren's lair. I'm fine. I've been working on them."

"Ouch," Mira said. "I got hit by one of those too, but less voltage, looks like."

"I don't have any salves with me. We should get back to the ship as quickly as possible for that reason alone."

She pulled her hands away from Mical finally. "That sounds good. Thank you." She took her lightsaber, but she didn't hide it inside her jacket, not here, instead clipping it to her belt so it would be ready for the inevitable battle with droids on the way out. "What plan have you come up with?"

"We're gonna shut down the cloaking on this ship, and let all Goto's enemies take care of him," he said. "Other than that, run like hell and shoot everything that gets in our way."

"I don't mind that plan," she said. "It's simple. Do you know where the bridge is?"

"I think it's upstairs," Mira said. "I'll deal with this. You go back to the ship."

"No," Selyn said. "I'll come with you. Whether or not you can do this alone, I wouldn't feel right letting you go alone."

Mira looked like she was going to argue, but he wasn't in any mood to wait around and pushed past her. "We're all going, come on. Safety in numbers."

With Selyn to help them fight, things were much easier than they had been getting in, and they reached the bridge without anyone getting horribly injured. There were only droids on the bridge as well. _What, is Goto an extreme germaphobe? Can't stand meatbags, as HK would put it?_

The cloaking shield controls weren't too difficult to find, and Mira shut them off with a flourish. "I think that's done it," she said. "Sweet, sweet payback."

He grinned at Selyn. "Let's get home before the bounty hunter fleet blows this pile of droid parts out of the sky."

.

BONUS STUPIDITY:

That don't impress me much  
These girls got the moves but they don't got the touch  
Don't get me wrong, yeah, they think they're all right  
But that won't kill me off in the middle of this fight  
That don't impress me much


	7. Part 7: Mirror

Part 7: Mirror

.

"While you were gone and I was still incapacitated, a man came to see me," Selyn said to Mira. "He said he was a friend of yours. Do you know a man with a moustache by the name of Zez Kai-Ell?"

"The moustache, yes. The name, no. But I take it you know him too." Mira squinted at her suspiciously. "What do you want with him?"

"I just want to talk," she said. "He's the whole reason I came to Nar Shaddaa in the first place."

"Aha. I wondered why you would come to the place least welcoming to Jedi in the galaxy right now. Didn't seem very smart. All right. I'll get you a meeting. After that…"

"After that, would you come with us?" Selyn said. "We could use your help."

Mira's suspicious look was still there. "You're not going to try to turn me into a Jedi like your droid said, are you?"

"Only if you want to," Selyn said. "But that's getting ahead of ourselves. For now, having someone with your skills on our ship would be of immense help."

"And what exactly is your 'team' up to?"

"It's a long story, but the short version might be 'saving the galaxy'. What do you know about the Sith?"

.

In the end, Mira joined their group, and Selyn went with her to her apartment – or one of them – so she could bring some of her things.

Zez Kai-Ell was waiting for her. Mira nodded at him and left them in the kitchen-living area to talk while she went into the tiny bedroom to pack.

Zez's eyes were solemn as he stared at her. "So you have returned from exile. Kavar thought you might, if only to wander your old battlegrounds. But I did not think you would come to Nar Shaddaa. Still, you were always a difficult one to read, both when you were tied to the Force, and even more when it was lost to you."

"I only came to find you. Why did Kavar think I would return from exile?"

"I do not know. It was a sense he had, and he had served in war, as you had. Perhaps he thought he understood you, or maybe he simply hoped he did. He felt you were the key to understanding the threat we face – the others were not so certain. But so many of them are gone now, as you no doubt know. He sensed some connection between you and many of the worlds touched by war. He thought by traveling to such places, he could achieve understanding."

Selyn stared at him. "I have hoped that someday you would understand… Understanding for me has been a long, slow journey, and I don't think I'm nearly done yet. Everytime I make a connection, the picture seems to get bigger."

Zez nodded. "Such are the ways of the Force. Unfortunately, I have not seen Kavar since we split up, so I do not know what he has learned on his own travels, or what insights he might be able to share with you."

"I will seek him out next, then. Why did you split up to begin with? Master Vrook said something about drawing out the Sith."

He drew in a deep breath. "We have scattered, but there is a purpose in these movements. It is to both to hunt – and draw out our enemies. Somehow, the Jedi… we… are being targeted through the Force – and when Jedi gather, we are vulnerable. So we have chosen places where it is difficult to sense others through the Force… whether on planets dense with life, or touched by war. In such places, we may conceal ourselves, gather information – without presenting ourselves as targets. It was part of Kavar's plan."

"We could not allow the fact that when we gathered, we placed everything around us at risk… a Jedi's life is sacrifice, but we cannot allow our presence or actions to endanger others. And we could not fight an enemy that would not reveal itself. But any Jedi, anyone who was strong in the Force, who attempted to track down such a threat… vanished, without a trace."

"If it believed us defeated, then perhaps it would finally show itself. It was a faint hope, but it was the best we had. It was Kavar's plan – he was always the greatest tactician among us. And had seen war more than the rest of us."

Selyn nodded thoughtfully. She had had the idea that it was Kavar's plan – Vrook hadn't said, but none of the others except maybe Master Vash would have come up with the idea. It wasn't really the Jedi way to play dead.

Mira passed through with a bag over her shoulder. "All right, when you leave, the door's going to lock behind you, so don't forget anything, kay?"

"All right. See you on the ship," Selyn said, and Mira tossed a wave over her shoulder as she left.

The apartment seemed very still when she was gone; orange-yellow light filtered through half-closed blinds and left streaks on the wall, constantly interrupted by the shadow of traffic. The muffled whining rumble of the speeders and swoops, the hum of the air filtration, the buzz of low-quality lights filled the air quietly.

Selyn looked up. "Why did you cast me out of the Order?"

Zez heaved a sigh. "We told you it was because you followed Revan to war. But you ask because you are not certain of the answer. Nor were we. The day we cast you out, was the day I decided to leave the Order. Because I do not believe we truly faced the reasons you were exiled, and if we do not examine such truths, then we are already lost."

He paused, then went on in a lower voice. "I think it was because we were afraid. It is a difficult thing to live one's life with the Force and to see a vision of what it would be like to be severed from it. It is more frightening than you know. To live life without the Force, to vanish and die and leave only an echo – it was terrifying. To be connected to all life around you, then to have it stripped… I can only imagine what it must have been like for you."

"It was the worst pain in the universe," she said, almost in a whisper, her gaze fixed on her hands neatly folded in her lap. "If the moment had not passed – if my connection had not been fully cut – I would be mad or dead. And yet I cannot tell if it was the cutting that caused the pain, or the pain that caused the cutting. And now that I have reconnected-"

"You have reconnected? How? Strange."

"Atris and Vrook said they cannot sense the Force in me, that I feel as dead inside as on that day. But I feel it. I don't know how, or why, only that I do. And it's a beautiful thing to have back, I truly appreciate feeling again what I missed… but the echoes are still there, and they are growing." She looked back up at him, resigned. "I don't know how long it will be before I can't bear it anymore."

"I can offer no comfort, because I have never heard of such a situation before. I must think on it."

"If you can, I would very much appreciate it. I need all the help I can get."

"But I have lost my train of thought. Why I am here… yes. On Nar Shaddaa… one cannot escape what was left from the Jedi Civil War. Splintered families, former soldiers, victims and refugees and survivors… seeing them all has driven home the terrible cost of what happened to Revan and Malek and what they did." He turned away, rested his face in his hand. "And I saw it, and did nothing. I am truly ashamed."

Selyn said nothing. She wanted to comfort, to tell him that she herself knew it was a hopeless task to save every poor soul here, let alone the galaxy. But she knew that was not why he had not acted. He had been afraid, not just of being disconnected like her, but of the Sith finding him alone.

"I will make amends later," Zez said, rousing himself. "What I witnessed… what I saw… is it truly all the fault of only Revan and Malek? From the failure of the Masters, from our failure to properly train Jedi, came disaster. And I wondered, if perhaps, the teachings of the Jedi had been our failing all along. There have been so many failures, by teachers who believed in the Code with all their being – Master Arca failed Ulic, as Master Baas failed Exar Kun, as Kae and Zhar and the others of the Council failed Revan… and Malek."

"For all the acts we do to preserve the galaxy, from such an arrogance that all we do is right and just, I wonder if there is a counter-effect that is created, that strikes back at us. Exar Kun, Ulic Qel-Droma, Malek, Revan, you… all Jedi."

She wasn't ecstatic to hear she was being grouped with Exar Kun and Ulic, but she _had_ destroyed a world and two fleets in an abominable way. She had no cause to complain.

Zez was continuing, and a shiver ran down her spine at his words. "There is something wrong in the Force, a wound, a sound that is growing, like a scream. You can hear it echo on Nar Shaddaa, sometimes when the moon's orbit faces out into space. It is a frightening thing to feel, that perhaps being connected to all life is not enlightenment at all, but simply another doom… And I think that maybe, perhaps, to forsake the Force as you did, to cut loose our bonds, may not be the wrong thing to do." Not that she had done it on purpose.

"And not once did I hear one of the Council claim responsibility for Revan, for Ulic, for Exar Kun, for Malek… or for you. Yet… you were the only one who came back from the wars to face our judgement. You taught me something important in the Council Chamber long ago, Selyn Tekeri, and it has stayed with me all these years."

"Do you wish to do battle now? You must be angry, and I have nothing more to say." He bowed his head and was silent.

She was silent, too. Now that Zez said it, she too had never heard of a master really taking responsibility for the fall of a student. Responsibility for little flaws, yes, but not when the fallen went on to ravage the galaxy. Was this one reason why Atton hated them? And then, to know that her words had made an impression… that she hadn't done the wrong thing in coming back… it was a weight off her mind. Although what that truly accomplished… she wasn't sure.

And what he described as a wound, a scream… that was the voice in her that she heard in the Force. Did he hear it as she did, or was it coming from her? She couldn't tell which frightened her more.

He was still waiting for her answer. "I do not wish to battle my allies," she said. "I came to tell you that the Sith have revealed themselves, chasing me. I am seeking the last Jedi Masters for help; as far as I know, the plan is to meet on Dantooine. I don't know what will happen then. I know what happened to Katarr, and I have a lead on who did such a thing, but I can't face that Sith Lord alone." He met her eyes reluctantly. "No matter what happened up until this point…" Her actions during the war, his inaction on Nar Shaddaa… "Please help me."

He sighed. "I will. I cannot back away now. I will go to Dantooine and confer with Vrook."

"Thank you." She sighed too and gave him a tired smile. "We must keep hope. The Sith can never truly win." It was the balance of the Force, the balance of life that would never let the light completely go out. Maybe the darkness would never truly leave either. But that was how it was.

"I hope you are right."

.

"You have come for more instruction?" Kreia asked her, a day into travel to Onderon.

"Yes. May we continue the lesson from last time?" She sat across from her teacher, kneeling, passive, ready.

"Clear your thoughts, then. Silence them in stillness. Imagine the waters of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, each stream suddenly falling silent and still. Imagine the ice of Telos, cold and smooth, as it gathers upon the plateau. Now stretch out, feel the ship around you. Strip away the metal, and see the souls and minds of those who fill its corridors, with more thoughts and dreams and worries than can fill the spaces of this ship."

She brushed them all, gently, her mind seeping into the surface of theirs. There were several thoughts that stayed with her, but most of all was Bao-Dur's. _Your command echoes still, General. And I obey, as I did at Malachor_.

She could never ask him what he meant. She was afraid to know. She was disturbed that even though he was her friend now, and her student, he still thought of her as the General, that her fateful order at Malachor still tortured him every day as it did her.

She had never done such a thing before, to read the minds of those around her – usually she used the Force to manipulate the physical environment around her, to enhance her own body and mind. If she did use the Force to persuade, it was like laying her will like a weighted blanket on her target's mind, not invading it. She wasn't sure she really liked it.

" _Now do you hear me? Truly hear me_ ," Kreia said, but she had not moved her lips.

" _I hear you_ ," Selyn said, withdrawing from the others.

" _There are limitations, as you no doubt noticed. The droids cannot be read in such a way. As for the alien who served with you in the war, its thoughts are more difficult, requiring many translations in meaning. Often it is better to read a non-human's impulses and images than their spoken thoughts. That is why he is mute to you. I have found his impulses are cold, like a dead weight, and his thoughts are black._ "

Selyn shifted uncomfortably at Bao-Dur being called an 'it', that Kreia would consider him in such a heartless manner. " _But I did hear something from him._ " She hoped Kreia would not ask what it was.

" _Indeed. It is strange that I did not._ " Kreia withdrew a moment, but not to ask any awkward questions, it seemed, more to reflect on Selyn's ability – or her own inability. " _You no doubt also noticed something strange about Atton's thoughts._ "

" _That's true,_ " Selyn said. " _They didn't seem like normal thoughts, more like… I don't know._ "

" _That is because he was not playing pazaak, yet he counts cards in his head. At times, he will list off engine sequencers, memorize the hyperspace routes on the other side of the galaxy, count the ticking in the power couplings even though they are fixed. At other times… he will imagine certain… base lusts, certain… indignities._ "

Wasn't that part of being a male human?

" _It may be that Atton is cleverer than he feigns to be… or that he is simply a fool. But you have learned from me what you can for now._ "

She was already sure that Atton was no fool, and she thought Kreia thought so too, although with a different perspective. "Thank you, Kreia." She didn't want to read people's minds… but it would help with her awareness.

Why did Atton count cards? Or engine sequencers, or hyperspace routes?

.

She walked quietly into the cockpit and took a seat in the co-pilot's chair. She was always quiet moving anywhere, but there was something different about it this time. He was still trying to figure out what it was when she spoke.

"Atton… why do you count cards?"

Oh. She'd tried to look into his mind. He really wasn't surprised. With her building power and control, it was going to happen sooner or later, especially since he was determined to stick around now. Had she only just done it, or had she done it a while back and decided to come clean now?

It didn't really matter, he supposed. "It passes the time better than listing off engine sequencers, memorizing hyperspace routes, or counting ticks in the power couplings." He glanced over at her; her attention was set on the console in front of her, but she was beginning to blush… _Oh frak_. Had she looked into his mind while he was imagining… _them?_ This could be awkward.

But she also looked confused. "But there are no more ticks in the power coupling. It's fixed."

"I know. And that's why you should count them, too."

"What?"

He frowned at her. How did she not get it, yet? "All right, I'll show you." He pulled his cards out of his pocket and began to deal.

"I hope this isn't for credits." After he'd cleaned out their small earnings on paying for the barfight, he didn't blame her. She'd made him return the bike, too.

He smirked. "Nah. Republic Senate rules. Just for fun." No Nar Shaddaa rules either, but he didn't want to bring that up in case she had been peeking on him while he was thinking about certain situations.

They played in silence for a few minutes; he won the first hand even though he'd gone first. "Now, what are you thinking about?"

"Well, the game, of course. What am I supposed to be thinking about?"

"No, no, that's fine. And that's exactly why I play pazaak in my head."

She immediately looked uncomfortable. "Atton… a little while ago, with Kreia's help… I felt your mind. I'm sorry."

So it wasn't a long while ago, and he hadn't been thinking about her naked. _That_ was a relief. And he could forgive her, now, this little trespass. "Of course you did. Jedi, light or dark, do it all the time."

"You said that before, I think, but I said then that I wouldn't – and I did." She hung her head. "I'm so ashamed. But you're so calm about this."

"Well, I never heard one say they were sorry before. That's a new house rule."

She was quiet a moment. "So you play pazaak to shield your thoughts."

She still didn't get it. He shook his head, a tiny, frustrated frown growing on his face. "No, I play pazaak to play pazaak. But when I'm doing that, it's a lot harder for anyone to just walk in."

"Oh. Oh!" She nodded. "Okay. New game, then?"

He grinned. "All right, I'll deal, then. …So if you're ever fighting someone who has the power over your mind… whether light or dark… play pazaak. Start listing hyperspace routes. Recite engine sequencers. And when they try to use their powers on you, suddenly it's not as easy as they thought. Jedi do it all the time, and when they walk in the dark places of your mind, they'll attack you where you're most vulnerable." He indulged in a shudder, but when her eyes sought his for answers, he was in control again, his voice very soft. "But it will be all right for you. Because you'll be in here. With me. Playing pazaak."

Their eyes were joined, the game almost forgotten. He was going to seize the moment and reach out for her hands, but she withdrew her gaze, drew a +10 card and went horribly over the limit. "Although you're really bad at it. I bet I'll win even in your imagination."

"I'll kick your butt at dejarik." She laid down the rest of her cards with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"Dejarik is boring!" Nope, the moment was gone, irrevocably. At least she was in a lighter mood than when she came in. "And it takes forever, compared to pazaak."

"You don't find that thinking so hard about hyperspace routes distracts you from fighting, or whatever else you're doing?"

Not a bad question. "Nope, because I'm constantly practicing. These are all things I know, really, really well. You can… recite the Jedi code, I guess. Recite poetry. Whatever works for you. Counting something nearby works really well and doesn't distract too much, although you have to be careful not to get into a rhythm or you'll get shot. But hey. Practice. When we spar with us, you practice too."

She smiled and for a moment she truly looked happy. "Yes, Atton-sensei."

He snorted a laugh. "I wouldn't go that far."

She stood and turned for the door. "Thank you. And… thank you for forgiving me. I won't do it again."

 _Maybe you will, maybe you won't. I'll probably forgive you again if you're as nice about it as you were this time_. "No problem."

.

She'd gone to the garage to meditate with Bao-Dur. Even if she couldn't admit to him as she could to Atton what she'd done, she could try to mitigate it. And it had been a while since she spent any one-on-one time with him.

They'd been meditating for about fifteen minutes when he sighed softly and spoke. "Having you here has an effect on me, Selyn. I never noticed it years ago. I think my mind was too preoccupied then."

An effect beyond training him to be a Jedi? "What do you mean?"

"I feel… calm. More in control. The anger is still there, but I can feel it drifting away. The last years of my life have been defined by it – against the Mandalorians, Revan, Czerka. And above all else, against myself, for Malachor. But this training is slowly eroding all that. And it's all thanks to you."

She looked at him, at his unreadable brown eyes. "I was the one who gave the order." Shouldn't he be angry at her too? Wasn't that the thought in his head?

He shook his head. "I'd never blame you for that. It had to be done. _My_ hands destroyed the Mandalorians. I built the weapon. I can never be forgiven for that."

She was silent a while. Everything he said was what she had said to herself. She had never blamed him; he had been under her orders; his was not the responsibility of that massacre. She could have not given that order, found some other way to defeat the Mandalorians.

But there was no other way. She'd known that all along. There was no choice that would have resulted in less bloodshed. "Never is a long time. Had you not, millions of innocents in the Republic would have been killed. You saved them."

He frowned. "Even if I did it out of hatred of the Mandalorians?"

"You did it to save us, to protect us from death."

Apparently that was as unconvincing to him as she'd found it for herself. "Even if that's the truth, I don't see it that way. I can't just ignore the blood on my hands."

"That is the same problem I've wrestled with every day since then. The past constantly calls to me, willing me to drown in it until I give up and die… It's important to never forget, but it seems we both need to think more about the future, don't we."

"We can't change the past, only the future," he agreed sadly. "Otherwise, we'd go insane. I'll keep that in mind, Master. Thanks."

"You're welcome." _And thank you, too, for also forgiving me_.

.

Dxun. Anywhere but Dxun.

She stared out the cockpit viewport at the overwhelming infinity of green, at the never-ending rain, and tried not to show any emotion.

Tried not to feel any emotion, either, since most of her crew was both Force-sensitive and training under her. Oh yes, she had already convinced Mira to train as a Jedi with everyone else.

The Force was wailing to her here.

The others were talking about what to do now, now that the Onderon military had chased them away from the Iziz spaceport. "I did pick up the remains an old outpost of some kind a little ways to the north-east when we put down," Atton was saying. "But until the ship is repaired, we're not getting to Onderon, even if their military lets us sneak by."

"There may be another route to Onderon from here," Kreia said. "The Force has guided us here for a reason."

"I'll take a party and make for the outpost, then," Selyn said. "There may be help there. We're not too badly damaged, are we?"

"Nah, but it will probably take some time to repair. I'll get on it, but can I have Bao-Dur's help?"

Had Bao-Dur been on Dxun when she fought here? Would it be better for him to come, or to stay? She had no idea; she hadn't known him at the time. She looked at him; he looked back.

She didn't read his thoughts. She already knew he would do whatever she asked of him. And she wasn't completely sure she liked that.

" _He should go with you_ ," Kreia said in her mind, and Selyn blinked in surprise. " _He has his own past to face here, as do you_."

Very well then. "I'd like Bao-Dur with me for this one. Sorry, Atton."

He grimaced. "I'll make do, then. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"What a vote of confidence," Mira snarked to herself.

.

Selyn decided on Bao-Dur, Mira, and Mical for her excursion team, leaving the rest behind to guard the ship, especially the droids. HK might have been fine in the mud and humidity, but T3 probably was not, and she remembered how easily droids malfunctioned here. Besides, then Atton would have at least a little technical help. And HK needed to watch Goto's droid and make sure it didn't do anything suspicious.

Atton grumbled at basically having only Visas to help. "I guess she can, like, pass me tools and stuff…" They were checking out the interior damage before she set off. He turned to her, a serious furrow between his brows. "Hey… I know that you know that Mical and I hate each other. That's probably not going to change ever. But I'm glad that he's going with you, even if I can't. He's about the only one I trust not to backstab you." He muttered to himself: "He's such a puppy."

Why had Kreia insisted that Atton be the one to repair the ship? Was she annoyed that Selyn was spending so much time with him? "I'm glad you're getting along at least a little bit." He scowled, and she would have smiled, but the Force was distracting her. She wasn't looking forward to going outside.

He glanced at her. "Just… be careful out there. I've heard there are big nasty predators on Dxun, monsters that can chew right through your armour."

"I'll be careful, Atton." She nodded at the fried circuitry, all non-essential stuff. "It doesn't look too bad in here. Let's check the outside."

He nodded, and she beckoned to her team. She walked down the ramp as it lowered and was struck almost physically by the jungle smell and the thick, soupy humidity and the Force, almost stopping stock-still, eyes dialating.

It hadn't changed at all.

She hardly heard Atton complaining about the new holes in the ship, didn't hear Bao-Dur offering him last-minute advice on fixing it, didn't hear Mira sigh impatiently. All she could hear was the rattle of rain on a billion leaves and the distant step of imaginary soldiers.

She was feeling all too much. She needed to shut it down before it overwhelmed her. _Force, go away. I don't want you right now_.

Without speaking, she headed off to the north-east, and her team followed her.

They'd been walking for about an hour, fighting off vicious maalraas and the lumbering, aggressive bomas. Mira had been invaluable. She might consider Nar Shaddaa her home, but she was equally in her element in the natural jungle as the urban one. "If these animal hides were worth anything much, I'd make a fortune."

Suddenly the rain grew heavier. Lightning flashed nearby, and its accompanying thunder cracked deafeningly overhead.

Selyn froze. She couldn't move.

 _The was is over. It's not a cannon. It's just the afternoon monsoon_.

Thunder cracked again.

 _It's not a cannon. It's not a cannon. It's not a cannon-_

"Master Selyn!" Mical leaned in front of her, taking her face in his hands with a look of concern. She jumped about two meters backwards before she registered that it was him. "M-master-"

They'd all felt the flare of alarm that she'd given off, staring at her in worry, and she straightened, closing her eyes and inhaling for a moment. "Sorry. I'll be all right." Everything was suddenly clearer now. She was ready to lead. After another deep, slow breath. "I'm ready. Move out."

Was she really all right if her language was falling into military parlance?

 _Count cards. Just count cards_.

.

Two hours later, Mira abruptly held up a hand in warning, and she felt a disturbance, bare seconds before a troop of living Mandalorians decloaked and emerged from the jungle before her.

Her lightsaber was in her hand without her remembering having drawn it; the Mandalorians and her followers raised their weapons instinctively. No one attacked, watching, waiting to see who would move first, waiting to see what she would do.

 _The war is over_. She made herself deactivate the weapon and slowly hang it again from her belt, showing her empty hands to the Mandalorians, who slowly lowered their weapons. "My apologies. The rain and beasts have left me a bit on edge."

"Yeah, sure, Jedi." There was enough sarcasm buried there that she knew he knew that was only half the truth. "Though I'm surprised you got this far. The jungle doesn't usually let its prey go that easily. What are a couple of Jedi… and others… doing here?" Mical was wielding his lightsaber, but Bao-Dur and Mira were both still more comfortable with blasters; no wonder the Mandalorian didn't recognize them as Jedi as well.

The truth was fine. "Our ship was damaged over Onderon. I was exploring while our pilot repairs it. What are Mandalorians doing on Dxun?"

"We claimed this moon decades ago when we reforged ourselves after Exar Kun's defeat. The area you're 'exploring' is our territory. But I have orders to take you to our camp – our leader wants to speak with you."

"Very well. We will go with you."

She could feel Bao-Dur's tension without even reaching out to him. Maybe he had been working on letting go of his anger, but he still hated them far more than she ever had. She still didn't know what he had seen during the war. It didn't matter.

When she did reach out to him, she found he was running through the Jedi Code as a mantra, putting exercises into practice. He felt her touch and his eyes turned to her. He nodded reassuringly. "I'll be fine."

She nodded back. He wasn't as impulsive as he'd been on Telos. He was telling the truth.

.

The leader of the Mandalorians was a big man in power armour, different armour than the rest of them. "So you're the intruder? Our sensors picked up your handiwork in space. I'm Mandalore, the leader of the Mandalorians."

So they'd picked a new leader after Revan had killed the last one. Naturally. "I had thought the Mandalorians had disbanded." The groups she'd seen on Nar Shaddaa had told her as much.

Mandalore snorted. "Scattered, perhaps, but we're still alive. Alive and rebuilding. This used to be the heart of the Mandalorian war effort. From this complex, we commanded an armada that had the Republic on the run."

 _I know, thanks for reminding me_. "It's seen better days."

"Covert camps are not meant to attract attention. Because we conquered them, the people of Onderon still hold a grudge against the Mandalorians. So we keep our presence here a secret."

"Why Dxun?" Why the place where so many had bled and died over nothing? Why the place she had first learned the horrors of war?

Mandalore didn't seem to notice the layers of her question. "Mandalorians have a rapport with this jungle. Every moment here is a struggle, all creatures gripped in a constant war for survival. The sole purpose of the weak is to feed the strong. We train here and learn the lessons of the jungle. The beasts help us keep our edge." That was the reason they'd given for going to war in the first place, and she felt a flash of anger that they still believed it.

"Anyway, I imagine you were trying to get to Onderon before you got forced down here. It just so happens I have a small shuttle that's more than capable of running the Onderon military blockade. I make occasional trips to Iziz for information and supplies. I might be persuaded to let you and maybe one of your companions come along… if you're willing to prove your worth."

She had to find Kavar, and if she had to work with Mandalorians to get to him, then so be it. _The war is over_. "I'm sure I can find something helpful to do."

"Good. You've got a couple days before my next planned trip. Talk to my boys around camp, they'll give you things to do."

The Mandalorian camp was sprawling, though a lot of it was hidden under jungle. But the main area maintained a well-cleared ground of relatively dry earth and grass, and the rain had let up as she and her companions walked it without supervision. Either the Mandalorians trusted them, or trusted that they could take them if she put a foot out of line. Probably the latter.

The massive defensive walls were rusted, and pieces were falling off. Many of the huts and offices had caved in, though the bunkers and hangers were still standing strong, built of ferrocrete as they were. From the outside, there were no electronics to be seen, yet Mandalore had been monitoring a huge wall of scanners and other information screens. It was as he said; covert camps were not meant to attract attention, and an aerial scan would have revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Besides the soldiers.

For there were many men in armour here, all men. And it became clear that only a small number of them were present; the rest, they were told, were spread across the moon, at other bases, trekking the jungle. The base could have held several thousand soldiers easily, yet there were only a few hundred there.

And it was so strange, to be walking among them, unopposed. Stared at, yes, but without hostility for the most part. And it was so strange, to see some of them without their ubiquitous ominous helmets, talking and eating and working, just like any other men.

Someday, they were told, Mandalore would gather all the Mandalorian clans… and begin again.

It should have sent a chill down her spine. Mical and Bao-Dur certainly reacted with horror. Why did she not fully believe them?

.

She was allowed to call the ship in the evening to let those there know she was safe. Visas answered, and she couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit disappointed. "Everything is fine. The outpost belongs to Mandalorians, who will give us transport to Onderon past the blockade if we help them out."

"I see," Visas said, and paused. She had certainly picked up on Selyn's past, living on board their ship, even if she hadn't experienced it or cared about it. "This does not bother you?"

"It won't," Selyn said firmly. The helmets everywhere were enough to keep her on edge, but the men inside them… were not evil, besides their unadulterated love of violence-equals-honour. "How is the ship?"

"I think it is coming along." Selyn heard quick bootsteps coming closer, and then Visas said: "But here is someone who can tell you much more about that." She left, and Selyn could just hear the resigned exasperation over the comm.

A new body slid into the comm chair on the other end, and Atton said: "Hey, sweetheart. Everything all right?"

What was this, calling her boyfriend in the evening? It wasn't fair to Visas, to be so glad to hear Atton's voice. "Everything's fine. How are the repairs?"

"They'll be done by the time you get back. What was that about Onderon? You've found transport?"

"Yes."

"So you don't need me anymore." He was pretending to pout, to get a rise out of her.

Normally that would have worked. "Not until I get back."

"Ouch. Well, take care of yourself, all right? I don't wanna have to take HK and extract you. He's the worst conversationalist. We'd shoot each other before we were halfway there."

"Noted. I'll be fine. Especially once I get to Onderon."

"Mm." He lowered his voice. "You're sure you're all right? This afternoon-"

"I'm fine," she said, a little too shortly. He'd felt it too? "It was nothing to worry about."

"Yeah, I'm just saying. Just, you know, if you ever need me… for anything… I'm here."

"I know."

"All right, then. …I'll talk to you later, all right?"

"Good night, Atton."

"Night."


	8. Part 8: The Mire

Author's note: Chapter theme is Rise by Origa!

.

Part 8: The Mire

.

One of the first 'tasks' given to her was to compete in the Mandalorian battle circle, a tournament competition that was basically the final step in their combat training.

They just wanted to see if they could beat the former Jedi. "The battle circle is only reserved for real warriors. Your Jedi tricks won't help you here – not honourably, at least. Jedi rely too much on their vaunted powers. They lose touch with their hands and feet. Without your Force would you be even a match for the lowliest of Mandalorian warriors?"

Mical shuffled indignantly, but she raised a hand to calm him. "That doesn't bother me. I accept."

The Force was all around her, rushing through her. It would almost be a greater challenge to shut it out than to fight these big burly men. Although that wouldn't be easy either; it had been a while since she'd sparred unarmed; not much chance to practice on a deserted planet. With her students, she _had_ sparred to test the technique she taught them, and Visas and Atton usually put up an excellent fight, but that was with bladed weapons. But if the Mandalorians thought that just because she wasn't using the Force she would be a pushover… they'd be mistaken.

Her newest opponent was a hulking big man named Tagren – who moved almost like a maalraas himself. He was going to be difficult to beat; if even one of his punches or, Force forbid, his kicks connected, it could be defeat for her, even with her armour to absorb some of the blow. She rested in a battle crouch, watching him carefully. The black visor in his helmet stared back.

There were no words exchanged. The fight organizer waved the start signal. Her jaw tightened just slightly and she was in motion, gliding sideways around the circle clockwise, advancing. He bounced a little, light on his feet, but not charging her.

 _He is the enemy_ , a part of her mind told her. _He is a Mandalorian and he will kill you. Destroy him first_.

 _No, he is my opponent. Nothing more. He will not kill me. There would be no honour in it, not even their own kind of honour. Now shut up and fight_.

She did not look at the helmet anymore. There was no eye contact to be made through it, and there was no need to unsettle herself further with it. He was waiting for her to go first. She needed to oblige.

She feinted; he punched towards her head; she ducked and made a leg sweep; he bounded backwards. They circled again, watching carefully as they warmed to each other's movements.

He made a few quick jabs; she weaved around them and blocked the last one to throw a punch of her own. Her gloved hand connected with his armoured abdomen and she felt a jolt of pain run up the back of her hand. Not a good punch. He reacted little but swung again at her and she flipped backwards, ignoring the protests of her hand. She slipped and almost fell on the slick grass.

When she came upright again he was rushing her. A high kick stopped him in his tracks as he ducked it and tried to sweep her leg; she hopped over his attack, making another sweeping kick with her other foot.

Her booted heel connected with his helmet and knocked him to the ground. He groaned and lay there for a moment before pushing himself up. "I concede." He pulled off his helmet and felt his jaw and skull, gingerly. There was no monster under the helmet, only a bruised human.

Apologizing for the damage would be weak from their point of view. "Thank you." Besides, from the way he was reacting, she hadn't broken anything.

"The Jedi is the clear and honourable victor," said the organizer, to the disappointment of several of the watching Mandalorians and the delight of her friends. She held her hand and channeled the Force into it, soothing the ache.

Tagren, now standing, pouted at her. "You have prowess in battle, this cannot be denied. But your Jedi teachings prevent you from having a true warrior's spirit."

"Yes, how do you fight so coldly?" demanded another one. "Technique doesn't win battles alone. Where's your passion, little Jedi woman?"

"What would you like me to say?" Selyn asked. It was too much to explain what was going through her mind when she fought. "You are neither my good friend nor my worst enemy." _I don't want to fear you anymore_.

Tagren snorted, still unconvinced. "Jedi couldn't have beaten us in the Mandalorian Wars. It took a fallen Jedi to gain that honour."

Mical opened his mouth to retort – and stopped himself. Whether he was realizing that a Jedi shouldn't rise to taunts, or whether he was remembering that while Selyn destroyed the Mandalorian fleet at Malachor, Revan was the one who defeated Mandalore, or whether he was remembering that while Selyn destroyed the Mandalorian fleet, she was not proud of it and wished to forget it, she couldn't tell. But those were her reasons for not speaking. She only looked levelly at Tagren until he turned away with a shrug.

"Well, you have defeated all the contestants here in camp," the organizer said. "To test yourself further, you'll have to wait until Kelborn and Bralor get back from their assignments." He paused. "Or you could go find them in the jungle and help them out."

.

A lot of the tasks the Mandalorians had for her were in the jungle: repairing equipment, finding lost scouts, hunting dangerous animals – the big ones, at that. So she left the camp and headed out for the wilderness.

She didn't like being there. In the Mandalorian camp at least she was slightly distracted from the whispers in the Force. Out there, there was nothing to shield her.

They walked. And they walked. And they walked. The rain fell, harder or softer, but never letting up. Shapes loomed up in the forest, and it was impossible to tell whether it was a large rock or a crashed, rusted troop transport from a distance. There were so many crashed transports, so much abandoned and destroyed equipment lying underfoot, swallowed but not forgotten by the mud and vines and creepers. Several times Mira stopped them to disarm mines that were still live.

So many burned bones of the long dead.

Was this the side of the planet she had fought on? Had she once marched down these very corridors of cliffs and trees? She didn't recognize it, but then again it all looked the same to her and always had, always would.

And the noises… It was noisy on Dxun, between the rain and the thunder and the constantly howling beasts and birds. Her brain filled in what was missing for her; the rumble of cannonfire, the frenzied rush of footsteps and ragged breathing, distant screams of dying soldiers. Her shoulders were tense, waiting for the whine of falling projectiles that never came. Her eyes constantly traveled, searching for the glint of blaster muzzles and narrow-visored helmets, her heart thudding in her chest.

She couldn't stop her posture from automatically becoming that of the Major she'd been at the time. She'd been given a position far above where she should have had as a newcomer, by virtue of her Jedi training and her blossoming skill at strategy and charisma in command. Ten years and it still felt like she had never left.

Her own followers seemed less distinct, less real than they had yesterday. Mira's face was alien to her, becoming that of Amida, her loyal Devaronian Commander. She blinked and Mira was back, though still not feeling overly familiar. She felt like she could see right through Mical as if he wasn't there, though he was the one closest to her side. Bao-Dur was the only one still solid and real.

The past was rising up from the very earth around her. She could smell the smoke and the blood through the plants and steam, the ionization and the grease and the engine fumes from the transports and tanks.

It was getting to her, too much. And that wasn't even reckoning with the clamouring whispers of the Force. No wonder she was seeing ghosts.

Amida had died here, leading an assault on the Mandalorian flank while the rest of Selyn's force attacked the centre. They'd taken the two kilometres they had to, but four thousand had died on that day alone… under her command, alone. And yet that was a small drop in the bucket of the entire front. But Amida's death she'd felt the most, a lingering scar on her soul, but not the first nor the last.

"Let's take a break," she suggested, breaking the silence they'd been traveling under, and the others looked relieved at it. While they shared out snacks and water, she went alone to sit on a massive treeroot and tried to meditate, trying to ignore the fact that the Force seemed more physically present than her friends. It wasn't like Dantooine at all.

They didn't disturb her, which she was grateful for. She needed to overcome this by herself. The past was not allowed to overwhelm her, not after all this time fighting it.

Maybe that was why the Force had driven her here. She hadn't actually been fighting it, only fighting to avoid it. It was time to stop running and face this blessing, this curse. She was afraid that confronting it would incapacitate her, drive her insane with regret and self-loathing, drive her to suicide. But here it could not be avoided or ignored.

 _A Jedi has no fear_. She closed her eyes and reached in to find her centre.

"Why did I die, Major?"

"Was it worth it?"

"You promised to save us, Major!"

"Why me, Major? I had a family!"

 _Breathe in, breathe out. Ignore the voices. There is no emotion, there is only peace_.

"If you'd only been faster, the anti-air wouldn't have gotten me."

"If you'd only been stronger, the cannons wouldn't have blown me up."

"If you'd only been smarter, the Mandos wouldn't have shot me in the back."

 _Breathe in, breathe out. There is no passion, there is only serenity_.

"You betrayed me, Selyn."

 _There is no chaos, there- Amida… not Amida_ …

"You sent us out to die."

 _We would all have died where we made our stand otherwise_.

"I fought for you and you couldn't even save me."

 _I tried!_

"Liar!"

 _I wanted to save you all!_

"You failed!"

 _Even a Jedi can't save everyone!_

"I hate you!"

 _Please, Amida…!_

"I hate you! I hate you! _I hate you!_ "

The ghostly words echoed inside her head, joined by a thousand others, rising like a feedback loop to an overwhelming cacophony of fury and hatred. The emotions tore into her, raking at her senses in the Force. The jungle was an inferno around her, smoke and lightning and shells filling the sky, scalding her lungs…

Her shriek was ripped from her throat and soared through the jungle canopy, sending flights of birds screaming into the sky.

.

He sighed as he tightened the last lug on the access panel. The Ebon Hawk could fly now if they wanted to, but with Selyn distracted by the Mandalorians and their guarantee of safe passage to Iziz, they probably wouldn't take off for ages. She'd go to Onderon with the Mandalorians and leave them all behind. She'd probably order him to stay on Dxun rather than risk trying to make Iziz through the blockade again, if she even remembered. Of course she'd remember, she was a strategist.

He didn't like getting left behind. It seemed like for most of the journey he'd been in the thick of it, and at first he'd found it a pain, or at least pretended to, but now he realized how much better it was than the alternative. Just to sit here, waiting, wondering what she was up to…

At least he could do something about the wondering, if just a little bit. He wouldn't snoop, just knock on the door to see what was up. It was difficult – she was quite far away physically – but if he really concentrated… let go of the world around him, reached out towards the distant storm that had gathered around her ever since she'd landed…

Nothing. She might cast a 'disturbance in the Force', as Visas liked to put it, but inside it she was counting cards. _He'd_ taught her that trick. Damn himself. But the fact that she was counting them so fast, so resolutely… she wasn't okay inside, was she.

There was nothing he could do about it now except pretend that he wasn't worried since he couldn't do anything about it.

Visas met him as he headed for the engine room to check on the diagnostics with the trash bucket. "The ship is repaired?"

"As much as I can get it without proper facilities, parts, or tools," he answered. "Now we just gotta sit tight and wait for our glorious commander to return." He shot a look at her while his hands flitted over the control panel. "You don't much like being left behind either, do you? With all that talk about 'my life for yours' and 'I must protect you until you reach your full potential' or whatever."

Visas' full lips tightened. She didn't like anyone but Selyn poking at her sayings. "I do not. But someone has to watch the ship and she has sufficient escort."

 _Yeah, and what was up with Kreia ordering Bao-Dur away when I could use his help? Did she want me to stall on the repairs and not have him to check them over? He'd just have to check them over again when he got back_. "Guess she does. And we have to babysit the droids, too…"

"Statement: I heard that, querulous meatbag," came echoing down the corridor, and he stiffened. The last thing he needed was the HK to come gunning for him while Selyn was away. He wondered just how very upset she'd be if he 'accidentally' dismembered it and claimed self-defense… T3 would rat him out, and she'd probably be upset given how much time she spent putting it back together. Well, wonderful.

A light exploded in his head and he staggered; beside him, Visas flinched and almost keeled over, clutching her head.

He grabbed the control panel to keep himself upright. "W-what was that!?" _Selyn? Selyn's in trouble!_

"She's being attacked," Visas said, actually sounding alarmed. "In the Force."

It was even more difficult to concentrate but he reached out again; her defenses were completely down, she was vulnerable, and he walked in. The storm was raging inside her now and she was in pain, he could tell that much. _Selyn! Selyn, sweetheart, I'm here. Looks like we're all here. For you_.

And he _could_ sense the others, it was weird. Could at least sense that their attention was all on her right now, too. Normally, he would have been bratty and possessive about it, but right now he was mostly glad. _She needs all the help she can get_.

.

She was wrapped in warmth, cocooned in friendly spirits, shutting out the hatred and violence. _So much for overcoming the past on my own_. Atton's mind touched hers, kissing it as gently as he'd kissed her forehead, but he was not the only one, though he was the first she recognized. They were all here, all of her students, her close friends, all supporting her.

She was covered in sweat not solely due to the intense humidity, but more importantly, there was warm pressure on her hand. She opened her eyes and found Mical was holding it in both of his. Bao-Dur was on her other side, and Mira hovered awkwardly, uncertain of what to do.

"Are you all right?" Mical asked anxiously, still holding her hand.

"Yeah, you okay?" Mira put in.

"I will be," she answered. "Thank you. I… may have been foolish." But she hadn't known there would be such a reaction. Was it the moon, or was it her? "I'm in control now." She wasn't, not the way Kreia expected her to be, but she wouldn't let the whispers take over again.

In fact, they were already fading from her mind.

"I'm sorry for not noticing before," Mical said earnestly, and she blinked at him, as he finally helped her to her feet and let go of her hand.

"What?"

"If I'd been paying more attention, I could have-" Mical began, and she stopped him.

"I kept it hidden. I did not want to worry you. I need to overcome it myself." But the whispers had only faded when they came to help her. Was that the lesson of Dxun? Did there have to be a lesson? The Force always had a reason… didn't it?

Mira cast her a look askance. "Are all Jedi so quick to martyr themselves?"

Selyn managed a smile. "Some. Most, maybe. But it's true as well." It wasn't their job to protect her in this way.

"Whatever was happening to lead up to your scream, we all felt it afterwards," Bao-Dur said quietly. "The Force was angry at you here, was it?"

"Not the Force… The Force has no feelings, no judgement." As a Jedi truly ought to be, perhaps. If they weren't biological mortals. Though some swore the Force had a sense of humour. "But those who died here, many of them blame me." Their blame was justified, although there was nothing she could do to change what had happened. And even if she could… People would still have died. If not four thousand, maybe five thousand. Maybe ten thousand. It was war. She couldn't save all her soldiers just by being there. Wishful thinking like that was for children. Then why did she indulge in it so much?

Suddenly she burst out: "Who am I?" She had been a Jedi. The Republic had signed her on as a Major. Dxun had made her Colonel. Serroco had made her General. Malachor had made her nothing, neither Jedi, nor officer, nor protector. And she had done nothing with her nothing since then, not until now, and she didn't know what she was doing now, except vaguely trying to stop the Sith and break free of the events that defined her to others and herself.

 _I'm not a soldier. I'm not the General. But I'm not anyone else, either_.

"What do you mean? You're the teacher, you shouldn't be asking your students existential questions like that," Mira said.

Bao-Dur was silent and would not meet her eyes.

"I wish I had a simple, reassuring answer to give you," Mical said solemnly. "But I do not. But let me reassure you that whatever spirits have tormented you here, they do not know you or the person you have become. You are… a good person, full of compassion, and you are strong, and wise, and courageous. …I… I cannot answer for those who died for you before, but… I would die for you."

She stared at him, at his guileless, sincere expression. In her peripheral vision, Bao-Dur nodded emphatically. Mira shrugged.

Amida had said she would gladly die for her, too.

"I don't know what to say to that," she managed to say, and stopped. Her senses twinged to the Force; someone was approaching them. She rose and looked towards the undergrowth expectantly. Her friends followed with confused looks at each other.

Whoever it was, they were almost completely silent in their approach. The first sight or sound she caught of the person was when a Mandalorian in faded red armour stepped from behind a tree. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "It's dangerous for your kind."

"What do you mean, our kind?" Mira bristled.

"Non-Mandalorians. Although you show some promise, surviving so far. I'm impressed the zakkegs haven't eaten you yet. Was that what all the screaming was about?"

"No," Selyn said calmly. "That was… a personal matter. We haven't seen many zakkegs today, as a matter of fact."

"Well, hopefully you don't see more soon, with all the noise you made. Every creature between here and the tomb must have been alerted. So, what _are_ you doing out here, if not hunting zakkegs?"

"My name is Selyn, and I'm assisting Mandalore in exchange for passage to Iziz. And you are?"

"Kelborn. Scout. Mandalore sent me out here to track a couple ships detected in this area. You sent to give me a hand?"

"Certainly," she said. "There were ships besides ours?"

"Yeah, from what little we could pick up on sensors, the closer one was bigger than your ship, most likely a freighter or dropship. They were both trying to sneak in quietly, keeping their ion emissions to a minimum. Our sensors almost didn't pick them up. In fact, Mandalore's still not sure the second ship exists. But anyhow, I haven't found the first ship yet, only a fresh Onderonian corpse. Cannocks got him. Pathetic."

"I see," she said. "What's the plan when the ship is found?"

"If there's more Onderonians, we need to take them out. You up for some action? People have a habit of shooting Mandalorians on sight." He sounded amused rather than angry, though she was sure he did little to discourage this 'habit'.

"Very well, if you don't mind working with Jedi."

He tilted his helmet at her, and she had the idea he'd raised an eyebrow. "A Jedi, huh? Well, you haven't started shooting – or stabbing – me yet either, and you said you're working with Mandalore. I'll trust you for now." He turned out to the forest. "Besides, the Onderonians are probably here looking for you, then. They're none too fond of Jedi either right now."

"Lead on, then." If they attacked her on sight…

"Right. Do try to keep your footsteps quiet, will you?"

.

They returned to the Mandalorian camp in the evening, to find Mandalore was pleased with their assistance. "You've proven your worth. You can come along when I go to Iziz tomorrow. The shuttle's not very big, pick one person to bring along. Kelborn, any news on those emissions detected?"

"The first ship was an Onderon scouting ship sent by Tobin to find the Jedi; we eliminated them without difficulty and recovered the ship. The second ship… it didn't put down near here is all I can tell you. I think it's probably near the tomb."

"If it wasn't just a thunderstorm sensor ghost. The tomb, huh? Could be trouble. Consult with Bralor on a plan of action while I'm away, I could be gone a little longer than usual."

"Understood."

"Good work, go get some rest."

She was heading towards the quarters assigned to her when she heard a shout from the north side of camp. "Stealthed units have breached our perimeter! We've got company!"

There was another shout from within the camp, from many voices; it was hungry with anticipation in a way that made her shiver. Selyn turned and quickened her pace to the source of the first cry.

It came to her through the Force slowly, but when she realized who was attacking, she almost froze. Her eyes narrowed in determination. "It's the Sith."

"So you weren't making them up," Mira commented as they ran closer, so they could see the black and silver ninja uniforms of the attackers, slightly translucent and blurry thanks to their stealth generators.

She lit her lightsaber and immediately the Sith turned towards her, singling her out. "No indeed. Ready?"

"Hell yeah."

The Sith were fast, as fast and strong as they'd been when she fought them on the Harbinger on Peragus. There were many more of them as well, but she wasn't alone now, and she was much, much stronger than she was before.

She couldn't help the General returning to her, but perhaps it would help her now, even if she couldn't give orders to the Mandalorians. Her violet lightsaber lit the twilight; Mical's green one flickering beside her. Behind her, Mira and Bao-Dur provided covering fire.

Then she heard Bao-Dur cry out and whirled to see four more Sith had unstealthed right behind him, wounding and sending him to the ground. Mira had dodged them, but she was having trouble shooting them accurately. Selyn sent a blast of Force pushing her first opponent away from her and ran for her Zabrak friend, but she wouldn't make it in time…

"Ha. You didn't think you were the only ones with stealth generators, did you?" A mocking Mandalorian voice came out of the shadows of the hut next to them, and the next thing she knew, a big red-armoured man with a sword was cutting through the Sith from the other side, getting them away from Bao-Dur.

"Kelborn!" she cried, and for the first time, she smiled at a Mandalorian. "Thank you."

"No thanks needed, Tekeri." He nodded to her and took a place beside her, sword in ready stance for more attackers. She check on Bao-Dur; he was bleeding, but not too badly, and if she focused the Force on him… "You're not bad for a Jedi. Wouldn't mind having a go in the battle circle later, would you?"

She wondered idly if this was how Mandalorians flirted, then dismissed that as foolish. But they respected each other, and she was glad of it. She was making progress with herself. "I'd be honoured."

She helped Bao-Dur to his feet; he looked a little shaken. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Mandalore came striding across the darkening battlefield, his ridiculously huge rifle smoking. "Tekeri. Seems trouble follows you on a regular basis, does it?"

"I'm afraid so," she said. "I apologize-"

Mandalore snorted. "Forget about it. Gives my boys a proper workout for once. I was thinking, though, it might be best for both of us if we left for Iziz now, in the middle of the commotion. Grab whatever gear you'll need. My men will clean up the mess."

"Very well. Thank you, Mandalore."

She heard him grumbling as he walked away again towards the shuttle hangar. "Man, the last Jedi I traveled with wasn't so bloody polite…"

.

On Onderon, more trouble was brewing, and this time it wasn't of her making. The Queen of Onderon and her General were locked in a power struggle, and Kavar, she learned, was somewhere in the middle of it. Mandalore attended to his own business, but was quick to agree to remain in Iziz until she'd seen Kavar.

It had been several days and a lot of running around, but she'd finally found someone who could get a message to him, in the Palace with the Queen. It had taken her more time than she'd liked, trying to find the right words for the message, but a few hours later Mandalore's contact had given her a time and a place; a pub in the busiest part of town, that evening. So now she, Mandalore, and Mical were sitting at a table near the back of the pub, waiting.

She felt him enter and looked around casually, but there was nothing casual about the jolt she felt when she met his warm brown eyes.

Kavar had always been her favourite teacher, even if he was never officially her Master. Down-to-earth, always wearing a kind smile, and reasonably patient with his students, he had been popular at the Jedi Academy on Coruscant and she herself had been in a fair way to be in love with him when she was a young Padawan. And he was handsome, too, with a square jaw and short-cropped curly brown hair. But he had never shown preference for anyone, even if it had been allowed, and if he spent more time with her, it was always to treat her like a little sister.

It was so strange to see him in plain clothes and not Jedi robes, she thought as he joined them at their table. She was still in armour; there were enough bounty hunters and beast riders around that she wasn't out of place. "Selyn, it's good to see you after all this time."

"Likewise," she managed to say. The affectionate gladness in his face was stirring feelings long buried. The last time she had seen him was at her exile, and yet it was as if time had rolled back to before the Wars…

"You must have gone through a lot to arrange this meeting. The palace is at full battle readiness; as you've no doubt noticed, revolution is ripe to erupt at any moment. Getting a message in is no small feat."

"I've made a few connections in a hurry," she said.

Mandalore stirred. "Kavar, huh? The famed Jedi guardian? The Mandalorians counted on the fact that it would be you, not Revan, leading the Jedi against us in the Mandalorian War. I always wondered how we would have done against you. I heard you were killed fighting Malek during the Jedi Civil War."

Mical frowned. Kavar only raised an eyebrow. "It seems my former student keeps curious company. Strange times lead to strange alliances, no doubt." He turned back to Selyn. "Why _are_ you here? I imagine that you hold little love for any on the Jedi Council any more, even an… old friend."

All thoughts she'd had of speaking about the Sith first went out of her head. "Kavar… I'd hoped that… I felt you abandoned me that day."

He sighed long and regretfully, looking down at his hands folded on the table. "You have to understand that it was a time of great uncertainly. We had just learned that Darth Revan was back with an armada. Every Jedi that went with her was… lost, corrupted, and as dark as their Master. And then there was you. Many thought you were a spy."

He was being evasive, and her heart sank. _Did you think I was a spy, Kavar?_

"But there's more to it than that. And I think you deserve an explanation-" He stiffened and looked around. "There is a hostile presence seeking… not me. How surprising. But I fear they _are_ after you." Over by the door, she could see an Onderon military officer and several soldiers, beginning a systematic sweep of the bar. The officer was making an announcement over the PA for patrons to cooperate with the soldiers and that they would be finished shortly.

"You should mind-trick 'em," Mandalore said. "Just sit tight and they'll walk right by, won't they?"

Kavar shook his head. "I'm afraid that won't work on Colonel Tobin. Besides, lacking in the Force as you are…"

"I'll be fine," Selyn said. "You should go, Kavar. I'm not alone, and I do have the Force, though I'm not surprised that you- never mind. Go. We'll cover for you."

He laid a hand on hers briefly. "I'll get word to you when I can. Go find the other Masters. We _will_ speak again, properly. May the Force be with you." He stood and was gone into the crowd.

The military officer was by their table a moment later. "In orbit I thought the Ebon Hawk was mine for sure. You can't imagine how furious I was when you slipped through my fingers in the ensuing battle. Imagine my delight to discover you've come to Iziz anyway. Quite careless of you. Well, come without resisting, and you will be treated well-"

And then Mandalore kicked over the table and the place went to hell.

.

Atton was putting the ship into hyperspace when he sensed her entering the cockpit behind him, although she made almost no sound. Wasn't that weird, that he could sense people now?

"Hey, welcome back," he said, spinning the chair slightly to look at her. It had been a long time since they'd been able to speak in person, something like a week, and he'd missed her. Her proximity was as soothing and uplifting as ever, although she seemed slightly different in ways he couldn't quite put his finger on. Regardless, she was still beautiful.

"Thanks." She tossed something at him and he caught it, looking at it curiously. It was another lightsaber, smaller than the one he already had. "I got you a souvenir."

"Sweet." He pointed it well away from any of the consoles and turned it on. Orange. Yellow and orange were his colours. He liked it. "Thanks. Didn't think you'd think of me."

"You're hard to forget."

He chuckled. "I do my best. So what's the verdict? You were rather terse on the comm."

"Kavar is there. I saw him." A weighty pause. "We didn't get to talk properly, though. He said he'd try to get in touch with us later, and that I should go find Master Vash in the meantime."

"He's busy enough to take that long, huh." He glanced at her; she was staring off into hyperspace wistfully. Whoever Jedi Master Kavar had been to the rest of the galaxy, he was special to her. As if he didn't have enough competition with Mical already. "You all right?"

She turned distant brown eyes on him. "I'm fine. Just… thinking."

"No, really?" He smirked and was rewarded with an amused smile. She'd felt so cold and distant while she was still on Dxun, before she'd gone to Onderon and out of his reach. It was good to see her smile, even if it was a weak one. "Anything I can help with?"

"Don't trouble yourself-"

"Hey, sweetheart. I'm enough of an asshole that if I'm offering, I really mean it," he said gruffly. "So. Anything I can help with?"

She looked at him in surprise, but she didn't smile this time, and he wondered why not. Thoughts flickered across her face, and he caught some of them in the Force, but they were so quick, so confused, he couldn't interpret them. Master Kavar, Mandalorians, guilt, and something else, something soft and fragile, but she hid that away before he could tell what it was.

"Who am I?" she said at last.

"You're a bit old to be having an identity crisis, aren't you?" he retorted, trying to buy time to cover his surprise and think about it.

"Atton."

"That's my name, yeah. Let me think, woman. It's not an easy question. Why do you ask, anyway?"

She looked down at her hands in her lap. "I don't want to be solely defined by my past, but I can't seem to escape it. I can't see the future and even my present is vague and hopeless."

"Wow, go easy on the optimism, hey? Nah, you're not defined only by your past." Even with that… attack, out in the jungle. He wasn't sure how to interpret that event.

When she looked up at him, there was a slightly irritated spark in her eyes. "How can you be so sure? It's relentless."

"Would the General of Malachor seriously waste time helping kids in the Refugee Sector on Nar Shaddaa? Would she work with Mandalorians just for a shuttle ticket? Would she keep all these losers around on her ship?"

"None of you are losers," she answered.

Before she could say anything else, he gave her a mirthless smile. "You do realize you're speaking to the worst person on this ship who's not a droid?" Although whether Goto was a droid or not was still up for debate. He was pretty sure about it, though. And yeah, sure, Visas was a former Sith, but she hadn't actually _done_ anything as a Sith, had she? "I'm still working through my issues, what makes you think I can help with yours?"

Consternation filled her face. "Oh, I-I'm sorry. I didn't think- I was only thinking that I wanted your opinion. …Because I trust you."

Sudden warmth blossomed in his chest and all his irritation vanished. "…Oh. Well, hey. Most people can't read the future anyway. And you're doing what you can in the present, right?"

"I suppose," she answered, still subdued. The cold, walled-off feeling was coming back. Frak. He wanted to reach out to her, touch her face, her hair, break down those walls, make her smile again. He'd be lost without his teacher, his… best friend. Actually, if he was really honest with himself… he wanted to snog her senseless until she moaned breathlessly in his arms, but like that was ever going to happen. She preferred guys like Mical, anyway. And he couldn't even reach out to her, not with this bloody console between them.

"Hey," he said gently. "You wanna play some pazaak?"

.

She wandered into the common area and approached the closet. "HK, I had a question for you."

"Statement: Ah. More questions. Wonderful."

She was getting used to the droid's heavy sarcasm and learning to move around it. "A while ago, you asked to confirm if I was the one responsible for Malachor. Why was that?"

"Observation: Well, master, I was not at Malachor V during your near-genocidal reaction to the Mandalorian threat, but I feel that I may have been constructed as a result of that."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Observation: I believe that Revan determined that mass slaughter on such a scale might have been no longer needed to achieve her aims. So perhaps you are indirectly responsible for my creation."

"Were you created during the Mandalorian War, then?"

"Answer: No, master. I was constructed shortly after the beginning of the Jedi Civil War."

She hesitated to ask. "…Who did Revan ask you to kill?"

"Answer: Well, master, normally unless you were operating on my central control cluster, I would be somewhat hesitant to discuss my targets. But I suppose it could do no harm. During the Jedi Civil War, I was responsible for certain strategic targets. For some reason, Revan did not feel that the Republic presented much of a military threat. Aside: I am not sure why this was so, but Revan did have a certain biological instinct regarding such things, so I will simply say there were probably reasons for such an assessment."

Selyn blinked in surprise. "But I was told Revan went to war against the Republic, to conquer it." Although Kreia had already hinted that perhaps Revan's 'fall' to the Dark Side was an act of self-sacrifice, not made through weakness or out of love of war. She didn't understand, not yet. She would probably never know until she saw her again. "Why didn't she consider it a threat?"

"Answer: Revan felt the true war was against the Jedi."

She drew in her breath sharply.

"Observation: It was not something discussed with much of the others, but I think Revan recognized that a single Jedi, both in the past and in the present, could turn the tide of a conflict. So my targets were frequently Jedi, or someone close to a Jedi that could result in their corruption or collapse. Revan often assigned me to kill leaders or supporters of certain Jedi so as to erode their will."

"Why?"

"Answer: Revan saw the pressures of war on Dxun, and knew that even in the heat of conflict, Jedi could be broken, not physically, but psychologically." Her gaze hardened. It had happened to her, to a degree. Revan had seen it. And used it. "Observation: It is a curious thing to assassinate and wound someone's personality, to assassinate them psychologically, and it took me some time to reconcile the acts. I am much more used to the… direct approach. Still, I served well, and killed many Jedi."

"So… you're saying that Revan wanted to break all Jedi?" _Why? Why? Why, Revan? What madness would lead you to such a conclusion? What desperate need convinced you that this was the only decision that could be made?_

"Observation: Master, that was the lesson of Malachor. Any Jedi involved in the systematic slaughter on such a scale cannot help but doubt and question themselves."

"But…" Malachor had been the last-ditch attempt to stop the Mandalorians. If they had failed, the last vestiges of the Republic Fleet would have been swept away and the Mandalorians, diminished but undefeated, would have rampaged through the rest of the Republic unchecked.

The orange eyes seemed all too knowing and uncompromising as they stared at her without the slightest flicker. "Observation: Master, I do not believe the Mandalorians were the true target at Malachor. I believe the intention was to destroy the Jedi, break their will, and make them loyal to Revan."

Selyn turned away. How could what the droid said be true?

"I do not know if you examined the records of the deaths on Malachor, but you cannot escape that many of the Jedi and Republic soldiers who died were not Revan's strongest supporters. Observation: I believe that Revan was 'cleaning house' at Malachor V. Those who did not die became Revan's allies against the Republic."

Her jaw dropped. "That's… that's insane." But now that she thought about it… Carnavon, Yserys, Commander Helvotha, Yuria… all the names that came first to mind whom she had lost in Malachor were people who had disagreed with Revan at one point or another. She herself had argued with Revan over the weapon. She had not thought of it that way before; all those under her command, even those transferred to her command before Malachor, she had known at least a little; she had thought Revan wanted her to have the forces she was most comfortable commanding for the most difficult battle they had ever fought.

Now HK was saying the correlation was not a coincidence. How awful.

"Assessment: When faced with a continuous series of hard-fought battles, I detected a significant statistical increase in Jedi following Revan over the Jedi Code – a compromise in principles bought about by battlefield conditions. The emotional weight of war changed Jedi morale, power, and eventually, their allegiance. Conclusion: I believe the Mandalorian Wars were to beat the Mandalorians… and also to allow Revan to build the foundation of her army." The droid's head tilted slightly. "But I am surprised you have not already arrived at this conclusion."

"Why?" she asked faintly.

"Answer: Surely the loss of your troops and the Jedi who served under you at Malachor V had a detrimental effect upon you and your ties to the Force – and, I suspect, your desire to be around others ever again." Far too true. But she had remained more or less sane, nor had she fallen. If her connection to the Force hadn't been cut, would she have fallen?

And just because she didn't want to be around people didn't mean she wasn't horribly lonely. Having companions had eased the ache, even with her unwilling reconnection to the Force, even if she didn't want to spend every waking moment with them. Just to know they were there made her feel less… broken.

She sat in silence for a long moment. The HK droid did not move, except to scan the common room. She didn't know whether it considered the conversation over or not.

But she had more questions. "Did you kill many Jedi?"

"Answer: Yes, master. It wasn't always easy, and I had to adapt quickly to rapidly changing battle situations. And they would often sever my limbs and my head from my torso, which was an inconvenience. Observation: It seems odd to me that you would react with shock. It seems to me that you have killed many more Jedi than I could ever hope to achieve. This was formerly something that generated respect, now I wonder from your tone if those deaths you caused were merely an accident. How disappointing."

Malachor V had been no accident, but she had not wished the deaths of a hundred Jedi, many of them friends, to say nothing of thousands of soldiers. "How can you respect death on such a scale?"

The orange eyes flashed at her. "Retort: Master, the hypocrisy of you meatbags never fails to cause a surge in my behavior core. Not only have you ended the lives of many recently, but in light of the event at Malachor V, you must recognize that death is necessary."

"I've never enjoyed it. And certainly not as you do." She retorted a bit sharply, irritated that the droid would accuse her of it.

"Evaluation: Well, master, that is your problem. Personally, I think you should seek help, but you seem to be the silent loner type, unwilling to admit such weaknesses to another."

Her failure on Dxun rose up before her before she pushed it away. HK's version of 'help' probably involved more killing. "How _can_ you justify the deaths of so many?"

"Answer: Oh, quite easily, master. If you had not slaughtered the Mandalorians at Malachor V, they would have destroyed you and everything you tried to protect. Now once you accept that the Mandalorians had to die, then the next logical step is to determine exactly how many need to die to convince them to correct their need for conquest." It was all too horribly simple and horribly familiar and horribly true. "And that, I am pleased to say, is where I come in."

"What do you mean?"

"Statement: It is a fact that the targeted extermination of certain individuals will bring war to a close quickly and efficiently. Leaders unite – and when the leaders are removed, the unity they inspire erodes as well. You were a General in the Wars, master. I have seen the records of your battles, and I know that your name was one the Mandalorians feared. It is not solely because of your skill in battle, but the fact that you could inspire others, convincing them to fight to the death in situations where other military leaders would be forced to retreat."

It made a certain sort of sense. On one hand, assassins were dishonourable… weren't they? To kill an individual with as little chance for them to fight back as possible… But on the other hand, if it had been possible to remove the Mandalore of the Wars without destroying hundreds of thousands of lives on both sides, not to speak of the billions of civilian casualties… That would have been preferable, wouldn't it? The murder of a few was preferable to the murder of many.

Revan's madness, her fall, was beginning to make a twisted kind of sense. Few or no Jedi would – could assassinate, or even argue in favour of it. It was better to inspire everyone, to give them the courage to stand up against any injustices or misfortunes, than to stoop to stabbing the enemy in the back from the shadows. …Wasn't it?

With all the bitter veterans on the Republic side who had been 'broken' at Malachor… Atton, Bao-Dur, and Mira included… maybe not. So many could have lived normal lives if it hadn't been for the War. And that was her fault as much as anyone else's. Wasn't a normal life for everyone one of her wishes?

HK was continuing. "Revan often speculated on your leadership in this regard. I believe my previous master had formed some other conclusions concerning you. Revan's apprentice wanted me to kill you when you left the war effort and did not go with them to the Unknown Regions, but she would not permit it."

Malek wanted to kill her? That bastard. "Although I didn't die at Malachor?"

"Speculation: I believe Revan wanted you to face the Jedi Council, master. As if there was something that you would show them and possibly undermine their strength. Perhaps Revan wished the Council to see how far the Jedi had fallen. Knowing her, it was no doubt a strategic decision on many levels."

"What else do you think she wanted me to show them?"

"Observation: Master, this is purely speculation, but there is a certain strength in parading defeated leaders before their people. Perhaps Revan felt that your return to the Council in your state would show them what Jedi were capable of – and the cost. Revan often referred to you as a Jedi who was already dead, and felt your reception by the Council would further show you _their_ hypocrisy. Considering the council's judgment, it seems they did not receive your return well. Perhaps whatever anger they held for Revan they held against you."

Revan had killed her without killing her. She'd only seen her once shortly after Malachor, when she made her decision to return to the Jedi Council. Revan had nodded dismissively, giving her a subtle jab at the loss of her Force-sensitivity.

Had Kavar blamed her for Revan's fall? Did she blame herself for Revan's fall? No, she couldn't do that – she had been blind to it, preoccupied with struggling not to fall herself. Besides, if Revan had _chosen_ to fall… Revan was in control of her own decisions, much more than Selyn had ever been – as far as she knew. She bore no responsibility for her former friend becoming a Sith.

"Thank you, HK. I… need to think about this."

"Supplication: Do make it an interrogation next time, Master. I will be far less bored by your inane, predictable questions."


	9. Part 9: Hollow Eyes, Blazing Soul

Author's Note: This chapter's theme is Torukia!

.

Part 9: Hollow Eyes, Blazing Soul

.

Bao-Dur was fully healed from the Sith attack now; after she'd gone to Onderon with Mical, he and Mira had returned to the Ebon Hawk, trusting in Mira's wilderness skills to keep them alive and uneaten. He'd spent the rest of the time refining Atton's repairs, and Mira had negotiated with the Mandalorians for more parts for better repairs.

Selyn was happy to see him healthy and busy, but he looked askance at their new companion and called her aside in the garage shortly after they'd gone into hyperspace. "A moment, please?"

"Is everything all right?" she asked, but there was a crease between his dark brows.

He glanced towards the door to the common area. "I don't know how you do it. Aren't you bothered by him?"

"Him who?"

Bao-Dur lowered his voice even more. "Mandalore. Traveling with him… It brings back too many memories." He pinching his lips tightly together for a second, eyes downcast and angry, then took a deep inhale and exhale. "Don't worry about me, I won't cause any problems. But if Mandalore steps out of line, I'll put him out the airlock."

Selyn glanced in the same direction as well. "He'd probably like to see you try. But I thought you were doing better with Mandalorians? Kelborn and Bralor aren't so bad, are they? Now that we know them as people."

"Just because I didn't want that one man, Kumus, to die of starvation or cannocks doesn't mean I _like_ them. And you know as well as I that their philosophies – or at least the way they put them into practice – is horribly flawed."

"I do have to admit that, but this Mandalore seems… more controlled. He speaks of having another Great War, but he's not mindless. I think you're overreacting a little."

"You're probably right. I guess I'm just not used to the idea of fighting alongside Mandalorians."

"Mandalore's no threat to us," she assured him.

"You're too trusting, Selyn." Ah! He'd used her first name. She could count the number of times he'd done that on one hand. He meant what he said, but he was going to trust her. She could have hugged him.

.

She felt Korriban's pull in the Force as soon as they came out of hyperspace above the planet. The entire planet was barren and lifeless, and at first Atton couldn't find where to land. Eventually the sensors picked up a lone automated beacon, sending the signal 'DRESHDAE' out into space over and over, but the rest of the planet was silent.

"It's as good a place as any, I guess," the pilot muttered, taking the Ebon Hawk down through atmosphere towards the mountainous desert region that spooled out below them.

"It's the right place," she said, distantly.

He shot her a suspicious look. "That a Jedi thing you're doing?"

"There's something in the Force near there," she said. "…It's… calling me." It wasn't the whispering screams of Dxun, it was more gentle, but compelling. She didn't think it was Master Vash.

She didn't trust it, but on the other hand, she rarely felt the Force pushing or pulling her the way others seemed to, not when it came to matters of destiny. Perhaps that was one reason she'd joined the Mandalorian Wars so quickly. Most of the major decisions in her life, she had felt, were hers and hers alone. HK and Kreia had shaken her faith in that belief. Although that wasn't the Force's fault. Probably.

But there was something calling to her down on Korriban, and she was going to find out what it was, whether or not she trusted it to be benign or beneficial. It probably wasn't. This planet had been a revered place for Sith for generations on generations, and the Force was murky here, pressing on her mind like a weight. She wondered how much her students felt it.

Her students were conversing among themselves still when Atton put the ship down in a monolith-filled valley. The source of that siren song was very nearby, and the old ruined Sith Academy, where Master Vash was likely to be, was at the closed end of the valley. While the others deliberated on who would stay and who would go, she stepped out of the ship and into the arid twilight of the Valley of the Sith Lords.

It was completely and utterly lifeless, a fact driven further home by burned and desiccated corpses scattered across the valley floor. There had been a great battle here years ago, before silence had regained its everlasting reign on the place. The only sound was the lonely wail of the wind through the stones, wearing the massive carvings into dust infinitesimally slowly. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears by comparison.

It was a truly dead world.

.

Atton had to come along. He'd never been to Korriban, though he'd heard whispers of it in the part of his life that he wanted to forget, and what he'd heard in those whispers… No way he was letting Selyn out of his sight now. Dxun had been bad enough, with her memories there, and Kreia making him stay on the ship. Here, even he could tell that some kind of doom was waiting to swallow her whole, maybe that 'call' thing she was talking about. Maybe the rest of them would get away from the inevitable trap, being only fledgling Jedi as they were, but it wanted _her_.

And he was damned if it was going to have her.

The silence bore down on them all; the crunch of their footsteps on the stone and gravel seemed horribly loud, echoing from the walls around them. No one spoke. It seemed like it would be bad luck.

Of course Mical had to join them; the brat still worshipped her every step. What was surprising was Bao-Dur not wanting to come with, but whatever. Mandalore and HK just wanted off the ship.

And Visas was with them, of course. She was a former Sith. She probably felt whatever was here better than he could.

The real question was, how much did Selyn know it? She felt something, she'd said so. But she was still walking unhesitatingly in front of them, and what he felt of her spirit felt as serene as ever. Maybe that 'weight of the galaxy' thing was a little more obvious today, but that was all.

The valley was tapering to a narrow little canyon hopefully leading up to that Sith Academy, or whatever it was supposed to be. They rounded a corner and were hit smack in the face with a foul smell that made him retch, even in the dry air. Mandalore must have been smirking inside his helmet, although with the way he never took it off, Atton wouldn't have been surprised if it smelled just as bad in there all the time. Maybe this planet wasn't completely lifeless, after all. "Ennnngh. What's that stench?"

Visas extended a hand towards a crack in the rock. "Listen – the wind from the cave tells of great power within, recently awakened."

"Yes, a great powerful stench," he snarked savagely, not at all liking where this was headed. Selyn was walking inside. "Whoa! Hey, where do you think you're going?"

She didn't answer, of course, only vanished into murky gloom. He hurried after her.

She seemed to know where she was going, igniting her lightsaber to use as a light source… and also to draw anything living here to the sight and sound of the humming violet. Already he could see flapping wings as some kind of mynock-like creatures swooped on her.

Blasters would be louder than lightsabers, but easier to kill them with. Ah, decisions.

HK and Mandalore had already made their decision, since they didn't have lightsabers, blasting away deafeningly in the enclosed, reverberant space.

Selyn was always ahead of them, no matter how hard he tried to catch up to her. It was like a bad dream, seeing the back of her small straight figure carrying on resolutely in the light of her lightsaber, and then their following group getting mobbed by more shyracks. He thought they were shyracks. They were too big to be mynocks or hawkbats.

And then there came a point, after they crossed a narrow bridge over a chasm one by one, where he simply couldn't go any farther. She could; he couldn't.

He tried, of course, but the Force – or something Force-related – was so thick he just couldn't, his limbs turning to lead the harder he tried. But the others were having as much luck as he was, even the droid. Ahead, she vanished into the darkness, the glow of her saber disappearing around a corner in the tunnel.

He went to sit on the edge of the chasm, brooding, fiddling with his lightsabers. There wasn't anything he could do now, and it made him feel sick.

Still no one spoke.

Until Mical shouted, and he jumped up, lightsabers blazing, to find the Sith were attacking. Oh yes, he remembered those outfits from the Harbinger. So they'd tracked them to Korriban? Or had they been here all along?

Only one thing was for sure: they couldn't get past to Selyn. He twirled the orange lightsaber in his left hand. "Bring it."

.

The Room of a Thousand Fountains was as peaceful as ever, and she strolled through with Alek's tall, gangly figure at her side. "It's good to see you again. Dantooine keeping you busy?"

"Yep. Peaceful, but plenty of work to do in the community. You?"

"It's been a bit quiet here without you and Revan," she said. "Not that I mind, of course!" She elbowed him in the arm, and he chuckled, rubbing the spot where she hit him.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Revan." His voice lowered, and his expressive dark eyes narrowed. "You've heard about what's been happening on the Rim, right?"

"Yes."

"Tell me you can't stand waiting around while the Council says they 'need time to deliberate'."

"It's… yes. I want to help. The death counts are appalling, and every number is another sentient being who had a life to fulfill…"

"Glad you see it our way. Revan's coming here in a couple days, and she's going to take everyone willing to go fight."

"To fight!?"

"Shh! The Masters don't know yet. She's going to do a recruiting speech when she gets here, before they can say no and shut her down or lock her away or something. But I thought I'd ask you first, because you're one of our strongest friends. We could really use you."

"What a terrifying thought," Selyn said. "Yes, I will go with Revan."

Something shifted in the background; the lights dimmed, suddenly? How could the lights dim, when all the light in the Room of a Thousand Fountains was natural light? Alek's face suddenly seemed pale and sinister. "What are your reasons?"

She blinked at him. "Wait, you didn't say that last time." _Last time?_ Had she had this conversation before?

"What are your reasons, Selyn?"

"…The Council was taking too long," she said slowly. "It was certain that the Mandalorians would win."

"You should trust in yourself – and in your instincts." She shied away from him, from the gleam in his eye. Dimly, behind him she saw more Jedi, ones she remembered had been in the War: Cariaga, Talvon, Xaset, Nisotsa. The sight of them disquieted her somehow. It was definitely darker in the room than it had been; the silver sunlight was definitely dimmer. What was going on? "It was within our power to end the war. And the Council sat behind closed doors and debated while planets burned."

"We barely won the war," she said, the words dragged from her lips. "And the cost was immense."

"Without us, the Republic would have been destroyed forever," Malek said. "The Council's inaction would have led to destruction greater than any overt act of the Dark Side." He turned on her with a hungry fire in his eyes. "So if you could do it all again… the real question is, would you? The Mandalorians await on the edge of space eager to crush the Republic. You know how this turns out. Would you do it any different? Knowing what it costs you, knowing what it costs the rest?"

As if she hadn't spent years hurling that question at herself already. But she didn't like to say it. "…I would. There was no choice. Even if it was possible to do it again… the cost of doing nothing would be even greater than what we already paid."

"So knowing all that would transpire, you would still follow Revan and I? Excellent."

"Revan and me," she corrected automatically.

Malek didn't even hear her, it seemed. If it really was Malek. It wasn't, was it? She wasn't on Coruscant… she was on… "And now you are all alone. Would you join me now? You didn't follow Revan and I down our path like the others. Join us. Your journey hasn't ended yet." One by one, the Jedi in the background stepped forward to stand with Malek, a wall of unity before her.

Bastila Shan stood on the end. "Bastila? You believed in the Council to the end, you warned us that disobeying would bring disaster."

Bastial stared at her with indifference as Malek answered for her. "She didn't join us that day, but in time she came to our way of thinking. And even before then, she wavered, and wondered what would've happened."

"Bastila… you fell? How? Why?"

"It is a familiar path…" Malek said. "There were those who wished to follow you to war, yet remained behind. They came to hate you for the choices they wished to make."

One clear face sprang immediately to mind, puzzle pieces falling into place. "Atris…"

She was on Korriban. She remembered now. This facsimile of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant was nothing more than a trap fed into her mind by the immense pressure of the Dark Side within this cave. The other Jedi were ones who had been with Revan during the Battle of Malachor, and must surely have fallen to the Dark Side with her.

"Join us," 'Malek' whispered, face filled with eager hunger. "Join us and complete your destiny."

"No," she said, a tiny crystal syllable in the great echoing space.

Malek's face twitched in anger, then smoothed momentarily. "Are you so certain? Every step along the way we did what we thought was right. Perhaps the same path lies before you."

"No." She would not fall, not to her past. This was not right.

"Then we shall destroy you, traitor." Six lightsabers ignited with a snap-hiss, and Selyn raised her own in the sudden darkness.

She couldn't take on six at the same time, and the cave was so dark it was difficult to see where she could withdraw to where she wouldn't become surrounded. But if she couldn't see, she could feel. She raised her hand and flung half her attackers away, leaving her with Malek, Bastila, and Talvon. Her lightsaber hummed and flickered, sparks flying when it batted against the others' lightsabers.

Her blade slashed through Talvon's head and he vanished from her sight. Her attackers were as much illusions as the Temple had been, then. They fought with skill; they were probably copied from her mind, with all the strengths and flaws that she remembered. She could not guard against every single attack, and scorch marks appeared on her armour, though their lightsabers did not seem able to truly cut her. But if they did enough damage to her she would probably die.

She cut Bastila's golden saber in half and stabbed her in the gut, and then she was left with Malek. He was almost seven feet tall and she was hardly five foot three, giving him fearsome reach on her weapon. But Malek, even as an illusion, had no finesse. Revan had often teased him, before the War, on how well she could fight rings around him, although during the war he'd been a terrifying opponent for the Mandalorians, killing many.

But she had already rejected his temptation, rejected the lure of following the crowd, so she would not lose to brute force.

His lightsaber passed through her left arm, rendering it useless with searing pain, but she focused on where he had dropped his guard to attack, pushing through the pain, and her lightsaber passed through his throat. He fell back and vanished into thin air and she was left alone with her injuries in the darkness.

.

Having healed herself, she wandered through chambers that appeared carven in the stone, not created by natural means, until she rounded a corner and came face to face with Amida. "A-Amida! What are you doing here?" _No, don't lose yourself. This is an illusion. The Dark Side wants to trick you somehow_.

"Major Lyn! Comm says we've lost another heavy droid transport. How can we break through the Mandalorian lines without support? The path is heavily mined! I know we've got our orders to press forward, but we're at quarter strength. We can't, Lyn. It's impossible. We need to retreat."

"We can't," Selyn said softly, staring through her. "We retreat, and we lose Dxun. We have to continue."

"But we won't help by throwing our lives away to storm the path. Too many Mandalorians, too few of us. We already lost half the men just getting to the path. They've got the rest of the company pinned down by the crash site. You can't possibly ask the troops to go forward." Amida looked towards her exhausted soldiers, slumped against pillars in the cavern, then turned back towards Selyn, speaking in a low voice. "If you ask us to charge, will it make a difference? Will our sacrifice mean something?" Her tired big red eyes pleaded with Selyn.

"I don't know," Selyn said honestly. "Revan might have known. But we won, in the end." She reached out, a little hesitantly, and put her hand on Amida's shoulder. "I can't decide what that means for you."

"What did it mean for you, Major? Was it worth it, to send us to our deaths?"

 _No. It wasn't_. "All I knew was there was no choice. If not yours, than another's. I don't even know why I am still alive."

Amida was silent for a moment. "We… we will press forward, if you ask it. The path is mined. If you ask us to charge, there will be losses."

Selyn smiled and squeezed the hand that rested on Amida's shoulder. "Not today. Even though this is all an illusion, I'll go first this time."

Amida's face melted into almost-tearful hope. "Oh, thank you, Major. Thank you."

She could channel the energy from the bombs through herself and away safely. She'd had to stop blaster shots without her lightsaber a few times. Bombs were just bigger.

Didn't mean it didn't hurt, as she strode forward, deliberately walking through the forest of proximity mines. She was battered and shaken, and her armour chipped and blackened, but she took the energy into herself, pouring it through her left hand and into the air above her, where it would not burn her. It was exhausting, and when Mandalorian-helmeted men charged her, she had almost no strength left to fight.

"Charge!" howled Amida from behind her, and Republic-uniformed soldiers rushed past her to engage with the enemy.

One by one, the visions disappeared until only Amida was left. Selyn was nursing her hand, but she turned to Amida with a rueful smile. "There was no other path for me this entire time. Not one that would have been less catastrophic. I suppose that makes me rather predictable." And manipulable.

"But no one could do what you do," Amida said. "How do you predict the impossible?"

"Apparently by being Revan," Selyn said distantly. "I must go now. Good bye, Amida. It was nice to see you again."

.

"You are to be commended for making it this far," Kreia's gravelly voice suddenly spoke from the shadows. Selyn didn't jump, but it was close. She hadn't felt anything. Probably because there was nothing to feel. Kreia couldn't have gotten ahead of her. Kreia wore brown, not black. This was another illusion.

"You've revisited the dark moments of your past, and now you must face the present."

"Very well," Selyn said. At least the cave was nice enough to warn her. "I am ready."

"Your confusion is natural. The others and I will help you understand."

"The others?"

There was a shout from the tunnel behind her. Atton's voice, and she couldn't help brightening – until she heard his words. "Get away from her! She's a dark Jedi!" He ran in and placed himself in front of Selyn, between her and Kreia, his arms outstretched protectively.

"Atton, I've had enough of your snide contempt!" Kreia growled, igniting a blue lightsaber of her own. Amber and orange sprang to life in Atton's hands in response.

"Atton-" Selyn began. This was the most obvious test possible, and yet it might prove to be the hardest.

"Hey, what's the commotion here?" Bao-Dur appeared out of another tunnel, rubbing his eyes as if he had been sleeping, then stiffened in alarm as he took in the scene before him.

"Stay out of this, Bao-Dur!" Kreia cried. "This is a personal dispute between Atton and me."

"You're threatening Atton with a lightsaber, and I'm supposed to just stay out of it? No!" And Bao-Dur's lightsaber joined the glow of the others. Atton shot him a smirk of camaraderie and Bao-Dur nodded solemnly in response. Did they act like this in real life?

"Everyone, please-"

"Master, stay back, we will protect you," Mical said, striding forward.

"The old witch has gotta die," Mira said, taking a place beside him.

"She cannot be redeemed," Visas said softly.

A series of whistles and beeps echoed shrilly through the cave as T3 rolled up, too.

"You would all challenge me?" Kreia demanded, offended as imperially an empress. "You sorely underestimate the power of the Force."

"Think again, Kreia!" Atton shouted. "Your dark influence will end!"

She couldn't see Kreia's eyes under the hood, but she knew the old woman was looking straight at her. "Your 'friends' are all arrayed against me. Will you stand for this?"

"I understand," Selyn said quietly. "You have been manipulating me ever since we met. Maybe even before."

"You, of all people, would judge me so?" Kreia's voice was low and terrible and sad. "Am I not worthy of redemption?"

"You're right," she said, and stepped out in front of Atton. Her friends – or the hallucinations of her friends – looked at her in frozen silence. "Put down your weapons."

"She's still manipulating you! She's not really interested in redemption!" Atton said.

"I know. But that doesn't matter." She gave him a little half-smile. "It may be a predictable, foolish Jedi thing, but if I don't give her the chance, what kind of hypocrite am I?"

"Then we will go through you to end her ambitions for the galaxy!" Mical cried.

"And that is how I know you're not real," Selyn said, smiling through growing tears. "I love you all. Every one of you. You know that. If you were not illusions conjured by the Dark Side here, if you loved me the way I love you, you wouldn't attack each other. Not even to protect me."

Six lightsabers and a welding arm swung towards her.

She blocked, too slow. She knew they were not real, in fact, worse than not real: they were monstrous illusions wearing the faces of her friends. But she had grown attached to them all, so quickly since she'd met them, and it hurt her to think of trying to kill them.

Kreia was beside her, futilely attempting to save her from herself.

Three of the lightsabers plunged into her chest and she cried out in agony. All movement stopped, and one by one, they all met her eyes her blankly. "Weak," said Atton, tonelessly.

"Weak," Mical echoed him.

"Weak," Mira said.

"Weak," Visas said.

"Weak," Bao-Dur said.

"Weak," said Kreia. Kreia, too, was facing her now.

The pain in her chest was too great and she fell to her knees on the stone floor. She had fallen into the same trap Atris had in words, underestimating its strength based on her own skill. Here of all places, on the planet that was its stronghold, lulled by the faces of her friends, she should have known better. She would have to kill them all to survive.

She needed to survive. Her real friends needed her. She would kill them… to save them.

How twisted. She sounded like a psychotic person. The Dark Side must love it.

She was on her feet as her lightsaber hummed like an angry krayt hatchling, spinning through the air. Bao-Dur was first to fall, still clumsy with his lightsaber as he was in real life. Mira and Mical were next, their screams sending shudders down her spine and bringing tears to her eyes. She cried out in sympathy, even more so as T3's electric shock arm hit her leg, almost sending her stumbling to one knee. Kreia had once told her to see all of her friends as tools, to use them to further her journey, and she had refused. If she hadn't, this would have been a lot easier. But she would have to have had no heart left to do that.

She shouldn't have taken them with her in the first place. Kreia had said as much, ages ago. Losing them for real would only wound her to the core again. And why did they follow her, anyway?

If she survived this, if she survived saving the galaxy from the Sith, she was going back into exile where she didn't have to deal with getting close to people.

No, she wouldn't. That was childish.

She made Force Bonds so easily, when the Force was with her. She loved too easily. But she had always been so lonely, so incredibly lonely. That was perhaps the only thing she missed about the war, was being with people, feeling their energy and hopes and dreams and life. Downtime with her soldiers was an experience unlike any other she'd had before or since, and making so many friends… she sounded like a child again, but people were important to her, even though she was quiet and reserved.

That was one reason why she couldn't send Kreia away, even if it was true that she was manipulating her. And she had no doubt that it was true. The cave would lie to her if it could, use her own unspoken fears against her, but she had already known this was true; she only wanted to pretend it wasn't.

But she couldn't leave Kreia. She craved connection, and Kreia was the one most tightly bonded to her. Even if it was an unnatural, painful bond, and she didn't always like Kreia's teachings or the fact that she basically had no mental privacy, it was still comforting to her. _Someone_ was there for her. And Kreia loved her. She had never said so in so many words, and she tried to hide it, but she loved Selyn like a daughter. And Selyn loved her back.

Atton was the last except for Kreia; he charged at her with a hate-filled snarl she had never seen on him before. _It's not Atton_ , she told herself repeatedly. It was harder to fight him than the others, and not just because he was strong and fast, one blade slicing at her after another.

The real Atton might grumble at her, and pout over the silliest things; he was impatient and rough and prickly, but he was also tenacious and sharp as a tack and made her smile. And he was trying so hard to be a Jedi, for his own sake, not just for hers. He was beautiful, a survivor of a past almost as scarred as her own, someone who did not let the galaxy tell him who he was, even if he was afraid and angry at it often.

She loved him.

It wasn't a revelation anymore. Sometime since Nar Shaddaa, her feelings for him had settled and deepened without any help or hindrance from her. She wished there might be a chance they could live in peace for a while together, that she could talk to and lean on him a little more, that she could be near him and watch over him.

But she didn't want to die to a mere facsimile of him. The real Atton would never try to kill her. Not even if he fell to the Dark Side. Because he loved her too. Maybe someday he would say so.

Atton died with a shriek that brought her to her knees more effectively than any of his attacks. But when she looked around, Kreia was gone as well. She had earned a breather.

She put her head down on her knees and tried not to cry for those who still lived.

She was so lonely.

.

The long battle had left her exhausted in mind, heart, and body, and when she stood again, she staggered towards the far end of the chamber before stopping to pull herself properly upright. There was no one to see her, no one to be strong for… except the Dark Side, and acting like she was unaffected by the trials so far might discourage the pull she felt.

Although it probably saw right through that, and was laughing at her.

She was personifying a dangerous thing; the Dark Side had no more sentience or sapience than the Light Side, than the Force in general. But the mindless malevolence felt almost like it was a creature, the way it tried to draw her to itself. It pressed on her mind, weighing down her steps, calling up all of her worst self-loathing, inciting her to anger and despair. And that was without reckoning the trials she'd been through, which only amplified her feelings a hundred times.

No matter what happened, she would not fall. If she allowed herself to believe it even for a moment, no matter how she underestimated the power here, she was already lost. She would rather die than fall. What would that mean for the rest of the galaxy? She didn't know. She was probably being selfish in thinking so. Maybe it was twisting her like Atris's black-and-white logic. She didn't know. She could only hold to what she knew in her heart.

So she pulled herself resolutely to her full height again, and strode onward with a determined step and squared shoulders.

But she was so tired; she couldn't help swaying to the side several times. Could she make it through the rest of the cave? How many more illusions and tests would it throw at her before it let her go? Before she conquered her doubts and fears, and in consequence, the Dark Side that lurked in her heart? Could she conquer her doubts and fears? Wasn't that impossible for a living being?

One last corner, down a long descent, and she saw a figure waiting for her in a large, circular chamber with the statue of some long-dead Sith Lord in its centre. She was almost at the end. The figure was cloaked entirely in black and wore a frightening, almost Mandalorian mask. "Revan?"

The figure made no answer, but gestured to one side, and Selyn started as her own pale grey face stared back at her. Her Dark Side doppelganger walked forward to stand beside the phantom Revan, her eyes yellow and scornful.

"Why?" The word came out in a whisper, but it echoed in the dead-silent space. "Why did you do all you did to me, Revan? Why did you send me to Malachor?"

More silence was her only answer.

"Did you hate me that much?" she shouted, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks. She began to pace feverishly across the entrance to the chamber. "You sent everyone there to die, but I didn't! I went back because I wanted to, because I was sick of what we had become, but you knew I would! You _used_ me to destroy the Council! You manipulated me my entire life, even when I thought we were friends, but even when war came between us I thought you still respected me! We were on the same side, weren't we? Nothing I have ever done has ever been of my own free will! Why did you do that to me, Revan?"

The Dark Side was cold, so cold, numbing her as she drowned in it. She'd fallen into a frozen lake once, on Serroco. This was the same. Dark waves closed over her head and there was no up nor down, no right or wrong, only the coldness and the hurt in her heart.

"I told myself then that you had no choice in what you did, just as I had no choice to do what I did. Even when I came back and learned that you had fallen, I clung to Kreia's words that you had fallen selflessly instead of selfishly. But what did it gain you, Revan? What did it gain me? And what did it cost?"

She was falling, falling, and her skin prickled across her entire body. Would she see it turning grey before her eyes? What could save her now?

She had sort of relied on the others to help keep her strong until now, but she had not felt any of her companions since she entered the cave, Force bonds or no. Mira and Mical would be horrified. Kreia would take it in stride. Visas and Bao-Dur would be disappointed in her.

And Atton… Atton would be sad, and resigned, and follow her into darkness. Because he loved her.

She sank to her knees. She could still complete her mission. She could still destroy the Sith Lords with her power driven by the fury and pain of betrayal, with the despair of a hundred thousand lifetimes, with the crushing weight of her failures. It would be easier to give in. Even the thought of Atton only destroyed what was left of her hope. Light Side, Dark Side, what did it matter? Would her fundamental being change so much if she were possessed by darkness instead of light? Did not Revan destroy half the galaxy to save it?

Revan and her doppelganger watched her struggle uselessly. Her head was bowed, her tears were beginning to still.

She was tired, so tired. Despair was all she had, and it felt empty and useless. Its violence had come and worn itself out again over the last few hours, leaving nothing except a terrible empty calm in its wake. Words and rationalizations had no place here. The point of no return was before her, a decision made with her tired, lonely, drowning heart, not with her mind.

"It is such a quiet thing, sometimes, to fall," Kreia had said once.

But sometimes it was such a quiet thing to rise.

Her head came up; there was no fire in her eyes, but an implacable vulnerability. She'd never desired more power and strength for its sake alone. "I will not join you in the Dark Side, ghost of Revan. You came back, but I will not go. This is where I belong. Korriban, your trap has failed."

Blue and silver blades crashed down on violet, sending white sparks flying. She felt the Light well up inside her, engulfing her, spilling over, filling her with strength far beyond her own endurance. The Light was cold, too, but it was like a breath of winter air after suffocating in icy black tar. Her opponents moved swiftly, attacking her from opposite sides, trying to trap and pin her.

Revan was as terrifying to fight as she remembered, her technique the best of the best and fueled with the full concentration of the Dark Side. She had rarely been able to defeat her in real life, and that was only in friendly sparring matches. Selyn was outnumbered and outmatched, and she dodged backwards from both Revan and the doppelganger, ducking and weaving until she could find a better angle to fight. Her brow furrowed in concentration as her lightsaber flickered through the air, leaving shining trails in its wake. She had to kill herself quickly so that she could focus everything on Revan. She gritted her teeth and flung out a hand, throwing her double across the room and following with a Force-powered leap.

She gasped as her double's lightsaber slipped around her defenses and carved into her side, and she was the one who fell to the floor, clutching at her wound. Revan was charging her, lightsaber swinging- _No! I will not die here! Don't fail me now!_ She pushed determinedly at the Force, healing herself and rolling out of the way back to her feet.

She took a deep breath, centering herself in her new power and swinging at her double, trying to keep her between herself and Revan. Sparks flew with crashing, grinding sounds as attack met parry and counterattack met block.

Her blade cleaved through her double's arm above the elbow and the figure staggered – and Selyn cut off her head. The body fell and vanished into nothingness.

She had no time to rest – Revan was upon her, driving her back again.

But now she could focus, could focus all of her concentration and love and grief onto this ghost from her past and her future, her feelings crashing over her like a tidal wave, passing through her and onwards, the Force filling her to overflowing. She poured all of her feelings, all of herself into that crucible of light, letting go of it all, and Revan seemed to falter in the face of her onslaught.

The taller woman flung out her hand, and Selyn was sent flying across the room, striking the wall and rolling down to the floor again. Dazed, she turned her head towards the blue shimmer and fought to get her head up, to get her guard up, anything before Revan came down on her like a gothic shyrack. She dragged herself up by the Force, levitating for a brief moment before meeting Revan's leap with a powerful upswing of her own. Spinning away, she slashed at Revan's robes; Revan's blade darted back and forth, feinting, parrying, keeping her dancing away, backing her against the statue. Selyn gathered herself and leaped backwards over it, at least a four meter jump.

Revan simply smashed through it, foregoing finesse and hurling chunks of stone ahead of her. Selyn swept them aside and her lightsaber locked with Revan's, the two of them circling with blades crossed.

Selyn stared into the black visor, breathing hard. The pressure from her opponent's weapon and will was relentless. But… Her eyes softened momentarily, and then she blasted outwards with all the power of the Light.

Revan was blown back and away, the spectre melting in the white light that came from her spirit. Even in defeat, she made no sound.

Alone in the cold gloom, Selyn breathed a deep sigh, draining all the tension from her body, tottered, and fell on her face.

.

Waiting was the most boring torture he could imagine. He couldn't even feel Selyn through the wall of energy that blocked their path. On the other hand, he was kind of glad of it. If he had been able to feel what she was experiencing without being able to help her… He'd been trained once to withstand interrogation, but he didn't think he could withstand whatever was in there with her.

He tried to smirk to himself, tried to remind himself that _it_ was in there with _her_ , instead of the other way around, but there was too much sick fear in his stomach to succeed. All the meditation exercises he'd been trying had been jack for help. Instead, he paced restlessly, a little way away from the others – Visas and Mical seemed to be meditating just fine, and Mandalore seemed the kind to blow off his head if he annoyed him.

He already had enough trouble dealing with his own mind. Normally he had his past on lockdown; even if he thought about it, it was only fleeting before he managed to distract himself with something else. He had lots of practice at that. But now it flooded his thoughts, worse than when Kreia had gone through his memories like a sarlacc through a sandskimmer; it was forcing him to remember every kill, every bloodstain, every shot deliberately fired at an innocent – and the cool, clinical way he'd gone about every mission for the Sith. What a soulless bastard he'd been. Why hadn't someone killed him then? He paced harder, trying to wear out the visions with physical movement.

Why did Selyn keep him around? Why'd she believe in him so unwaveringly? It would be better for her if he just left. It would be better for the galaxy if he just killed himself. Except he wasn't done trying to set things right. It might have been immensely selfish of him, but she was his best chance to do things right for the first time and he wasn't throwing that away so easily, _Korriban_.

A faint purple glow from the depths, and he turned eagerly towards the opening. It was her! She had survived!

Her figure was held tall, and her eyes looked straight ahead. She came through the barrier and he almost put up a hand to shield his eyes. She was blinding in the Force; it streamed off her in almost visible, tangible waves of light. "Selyn!" The others echoed his cry, looking at her with the same awe that he did. Well, Mical did, anyway, and Visas probably was. Mandalore and the droid were impossible to tell.

But physically, she looked terrible. Her blue armour was burned and scarred, especially in some ominous spots across her chest, and there were shadows under her eyes. Her stare was alert, but hollow. What had happened in there?

At their voices, she seemed to come back to herself a little. "You're here."

"Of course we're here," he said, a little gruffly, trying to hide how relieved he was. "You just went waltzing in there."

He had the feeling she was looking right through him as she turned her serene eyes on him. "I'm sorry. But it's all right now. I know who I am now, and what I must do."

"That's wonderful," Mical said, smiling at her.

He wasn't buying it. Was she even really there? Under the blaze of the Force, she seemed so exhausted, so thin. He was no expert, but how much of her right now was the Force, and how much was Selyn? "We should head back to the ship and get some rest. Your Master Vash can wait a little longer. You look like crap."

"…I _am_ rather tired."

"What was in there?" Mandalore asked. "Secret Jedi stuff?"

"I'd rather not talk about it…"

She walked with them instead of ahead of them, steady and controlled and utterly calm, like she was in a dream, and he felt ominous shivers go down his spine looking at her.


	10. Part 10: Sniper Shot

Author's Note: I'm not sure I'm fully happy with this chapter as it is, especially the shippy bits... I already added in a couple of edits to earlier chapters – notably, a little paragraph about Bao-Dur in chapter 5. (he's good with kids, basically)

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Part 10: Sniper Shot

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He'd been right, shockingly – the first thing she did when she got back to the ship, after Mical finished fussing over her many half-healed injuries in the medbay, was sleep. Maybe her weirdness had only been from trying to maintain too much control when she was dead tired.

While she slept, he leaned casually into the doorway of the medbay. "What's the final tally?"

Mical pushed reading glasses up his nose and brought his datapad around. "Immense. Twenty-three burns of varying sizes and degrees, including three right in the centre of her chest and a long one across her side. She's also absorbed a large amount of energy; the scanner picked up abnormal readings from her internal organs. I'm not sure if it's from the burns or the energy, but… Also, eleven contusions, mostly across her back and arms, and a concussion. All in various states of recovery; thank the Force she's been healing herself the whole time or else I'm not sure she would have come back to us."

Atton sagged against the doorway. "Frakking Carkoon. I hope it was worth it."

Mical glanced at her. "I believe she believes it was."

"I wonder if she would tell us if it wasn't." A Jedi was supposed to tell the truth. But a Jedi was also supposed to sacrifice themselves for the good of others, and he wouldn't be surprised if she martyred herself to keep them from worrying, rather than trusting in them to support her. "Well, we'll be there for her when she wakes up."

"Indeed we will."

"Did we just have a decent conversation?"

Mical's pale blue eyes were annoyingly amiable. "I believe we just did."

"That won't do." But his own eyes strayed to the sleeping woman. "Don't worry, I'll fix it. Later. When she's not in danger."

Mical sighed. "I look forward to it."

Atton grinned. "Did you just use sarcasm? Good job, young Padawan!" Mical blushed and shook his head.

.

But her demeanour wasn't all from exhaustion; she was still distant when she woke, even when she'd eaten. It was like she was a different person from before they'd even landed on Korriban, and it was bothering him way too much. And she hadn't smiled once since then, either. He'd even tried touching her mind – some hypocrite he was – but he couldn't sense anything through the light she gave off. It was going to take some getting used to. Maybe for her as well.

So when she started making preparations to go out again, he stopped her to talk for a moment. Well, not to talk. He wasn't good with words. Not in this situation. "Would you have a minute to spar before we head out?"

If this was a holodrama, he'd always have the right words, the right gestures. But it wasn't, and nothing was scripted, and just because she wouldn't get mad at him or kick him out didn't mean he couldn't screw up and make things worse. But if he didn't have to say much, it would be all right, right?

"Sparring? All right, just for a minute to warm up." She followed him to the cargo hold, where he closed the door and locked it. She looked at him with curiosity, but didn't stop him. Probably because if she really didn't like whatever he did or said, she could just stomp all over him and leave.

"You can leave your lightsaber, I want to try some unarmed stuff right now." It was close enough to the truth.

"All right." She settled into a ready stance, hands in front of her, waiting for him.

Echani philosophy said that one's true feelings were expressed most honestly in conflict. He wasn't Echani, but he'd been trained by them, and he knew the drill. She probably didn't, and that would hinder him in communicating, but at least he'd be able to read her more easily.

Once she'd settled in to the flow of their combat, had some time to relax and let her mental guard down, he asked her. "You said you knew who you were now. Care to elaborate?"

Her eyes were clear but still distant as she answered. "I am the ruin of my past and the mystery of my future and the dreams of my present. I am my strength and my weakness and my love for my friends."

Fantastic. She'd gone full Jedi, dramatic poetic crypticness and everything. Hadn't he told her what a bad idea it was to go full Jedi? Goodbye common sense… "How long did you work on that line?"

A painfully hopeful voice deep inside him asked if she meant _love_ -love, like a hopeless teenager.

There was a flicker in the facade, just for an instant. "About five minutes." At least she still realized it was silly.

"Was it worth it? Almost dying, for that realization?"

"Yes. I have peace and clarity of mind. I have the strength to continue my quest." He felt her retreat further into her light, unconsciously, it seemed. _No! Come back!_

"But is that really you?" he asked quietly, his movements slowing, gentling, almost caressing her now instead of attacking or defending. "That's great and all, ruin and mystery and whatnot, but what about the woman who reads weird historical fiction and loses at pazaak all the time and curb-stomps HK-50s and gets a kick out of saying dirty things with an innocent face?" _What happened to the woman who walked into my jail in her underwear with the grace of a queen and threatened to cut my hands off if I tried anything?_ "Is there room for her too?"

She faltered, confusion entering her brown eyes, her mouth making a tiny 'o' shape. Her next attack was a little less coordinated, she was thinking so deeply, and she hit him pretty hard. "Ow."

"Sorry!" But already there was more life in her face. "I'm sorry, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Don't worry about me." They fought in silence for a few minutes, his movements trying to tell her what his mouth could not – yes, he was using the etiquette tier style, so shoot him for trying – and her movements distracted, almost disjointed. Whatever she truly felt was on the verge of breaking through.

He tried one more time. "Okay, so maybe you're whole and complete now, come to terms with your past and all, in a way that you weren't before." He was almost jealous. Would he get the chance to do that someday? "But… you're still allowed to be human, you know." _I love you I love you I love you I love you_ –

She came to a stop and stared at him like she'd never seen him before. His throat closed off and he couldn't say any more, so he caught her wrist and brought her knuckles to his mouth. His eyes met hers over their hands, and a jolt shot down to his stomach and released a high-intensity dogfight.

Her eyes closed, she lowered her head, and with a inhalation of surprise, he saw that tears had run down her cheek. In one long stride he'd closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly.

She was still and quiet in his arms. "You're right. I'm whole… but I'm still broken. I… I didn't… I didn't know. Until you said."

"No one's _not_ broken," he murmured, familiar with this territory. "You and I, we're just a little more broken than most people."

She nodded, hair mussing against his chest. "You and me, we're both atoning for things that can never be atoned for… But I forgive you. I forgave you your past long ago."

"You weren't there," he said, his voice starting to shake, his own spectres rising before him. "I gave you the vague, glossed over version way back on Nar Shaddaa. There's so much blood on my hands… I only just started feeling human again in the last couple years… but mostly since I met you."

"Atton," she said in a whisper. "Remember when you told me about the woman who saved you… what it felt like when she died."

He stiffened. "Yes." The vision he'd had of Selyn and that woman melding together floated before his eyes, and he swallowed and held her tighter.

"Take that feeling, and multiply it by a hundred thousand and more."

"Oh frak."

"It's true what they say. I might not have murdered them with my own two hands, but I'm a worse monster than you ever were or ever will be. But I have to go on. There was no choice. There is no choice."

He rested his chin on her head. "I never thought you were defined by your past to begin with." He couldn't, not what he'd seen of her in the first five minutes of their meeting. "You're still a much better person than I'll ever be."

She looked up at him. "I don't believe tha-"

He kissed her. He couldn't help it. And after she stiffened in shock and squeaked into his mouth, her eyes fluttered closed and she kissed him back, arms sliding around him and up to his shoulders, body pressed against his.

It wasn't happiness that he felt. It was too uncertain and full of apprehension and yearning for happiness. But it was as close to heaven as he'd ever gotten in this life. Even though she was as bad at kissing as she was at pazaak.

Her eyes were shining in the dim light as he released her. "A-Atton." She was so beautiful, especially with a fierce blush and unsettled breathing.

"Well?"

"What?" She looked confused.

He tried a shaky smirk. "I knew you liked me." Not really, but he'd hoped so hard it had felt like he'd known. He wanted to ask why, but it would ruin the suave demeanour he was going for. Maybe later.

"I love you, Atton. I thought about it for a long time, but I made my decision a long time ago." She ducked her head, adorably shy, a tiny anxious smile on her face. How could she be in her mid-thirties and so shy? Right, right, sheltered Jedi exile. "I was just waiting for you to say something. I was afraid to drive you away."

He thought his heart was going to escape his chest. _She said she loves me. She said it. It's true. She loves ME, the worthless nobody who follows her helplessly_. "Aw, so I've been an idiot for a long time. Well, it's not like that's anything new. Anyway, you should trust yourself more. You should trust me."

"I do-"

"Well hold on there a second. You kind of do. But you don't completely. You don't trust us completely."

She looked at him, eyes worried. "How so?"

"You don't want us to worry about you, so you don't always tell us everything that's going on," he said. "It's a common thing for people to do for their friends – or for compassionate leaders to do for their followers – but it's not fair to us. You don't want to dishearten us, I know. But why not let us support you? You know we want to." Yes, he was speaking for the whole crew, but he spoke for himself most of all. _Don't just love me. Trust me. Give me a chance to not let you down. Let me prove to me and you that I'm worthy of standing beside you, despite who I've been, despite who I am_.

Her voice was quiet. "If you're talking about yesterday… It will take some time. The visions… they were… disturbing. Cathartic, some of them, but others hurt me."

"Okay. But don't just listen to us moan about our problems, okay? We're all in this together."

"Yes, we are. And I wouldn't have made it this far without you. When I'm with you… the whispers are quieter."

He wanted to say that was weird, but he got what she meant. "Yeah… mine, too."

He sat himself on the edge of a storage container so she didn't have to crane her neck to reach his mouth so much. She leaned against him, warm even though her armour. She'd felt so cold before, and now she was overflowing with warmth. It was a good balm against Korriban's oppressive funk.

Of course, the others could probably feel it and knew exactly what was going on. Being a Jedi among Jedi meant not a lot of secrets, it seemed. One reason he held on so possessively to the ones he had. He… couldn't be open like her. Not yet. Someday, maybe, when he'd proven himself some other way, he'd give away his past and move beyond it, like what had happened to her in the cave. Hopefully without going Full Dumbass Jedi.

Well, if she didn't care, neither did he. He could bear Mical glaring at the back of his head. He could deal with Mira's sidelong smirks. He could probably even deal with Kreia ignoring him more pointedly than usual. Just as long as she loved him, he could deal with anything. Maybe not take on the entire Sith fleet single-handed. But if she asked… he might try.

He didn't want to go anywhere. She was warm and solid and safe in his arms, and oddly, he felt safe in hers, too. Like no one was going to attack him. Or poke through his head. Like he could let all his multi-layered, prickly barriers down, and it would be okay. And she might have been awful at pazaak, but she was a quick study at kissing. And she was just as into it as he was, and it was blowing his mind.

And if he didn't get them going soon, he'd be too far gone to be any help to her against the dangers of Korriban.

He released her, but it seemed she'd had the same thought. "I hate to stop, but…"

"Hey, just don't get killed by visions – or not-visions – and we can do this all. Night. Long."

She flushed crimson and gasped a shuddering breath that almost made him think she was aroused already, but no, it was just surprise. As far as he could tell. "A-a-all right, then."

He chuckled. "Let's go knock 'em dead."

.

Vash was dead; her body a crumpled heap in the bottom of the durasteel cage. She'd been dead for some time; taking the previous day to visit the cave had not changed anything.

Selyn looked down on her body sadly. "Master Vash was always cautious… but just. I wish she hadn't come to this end."

"Okay, so who put her in there? Seems to me like that's the important question, and we should try to avoid having it done to us," Mira said, having gathered her courage to come today. "Didn't Mical say you got ambushed by Sith yesterday?"

"I wouldn't know anything about that," Selyn said.

"Yes," Atton said.

"That's a good question, though," Selyn said. "Let's leave. There's nothing here for us now."

"Finally," Mira muttered, and she led them as swiftly as she could for the entrance of the Sith Academy.

In the main hall a tall figure waited for her, grey skin torn by a webbing of horrific scars, implacable hatred radiating into the Force.

"Oh good, it's ol' Kinrath-Face-Attack," Atton said, sarcasm at full.

"Sion." He'd cut off Kreia's hand, on the Harbinger. How had he found them now? Was this the place he called home? Sith assassins appeared around the edges of the chamber, outnumbering them two to one.

"Did you come to this place for answers?" Sion rumbled. "There are none. The call of Korriban is strong, but it is the call of the dead. It is fitting you came here. I have studied you and found nothing but weakness. Yet still she clutches at you, as if you are all that gives her life."

Selyn gripped her lightsaber tighter, although she had not turned it on yet. She no longer feared him like she had the first time, though his power still gave her pause. "What do you want with her?"

Sion's one good eye glared with implacable hatred. "I want her to die, and to see and that she has built cast down. All that she holds dear, in shards at her feet."

She raised her chin defiantly. "I will not let you harm her." Even though she had so many questions about Kreia's past – and even more, now – they were too tightly bonded for Selyn to allow Sion to harm her again.

Sion took a step forward, and Selyn watched his scars flex and shift in fascination, especially the splintering cracks around his mouth. "But you do not know her as I do. You have not survived her teachings, as I have. You have not bested her in battle, as I have. You are _nothing_."

He snarled, an awful grimace of rage and pain. "Yet still she walks with you, is willing to sacrifice herself for _you_! I have studied you. I know the paths you walked in exile. I know your teacher. I know the fires that raged upon the Dxun moon while the Republic died around you. You know war. You know battle. And I know of Malachor. You saw the heart of war, what Malachor wrought, yet _you turned away from it_." Contempt threaded through his words like poison. "You are a wretched thing, a thing of weakness and fear. You are her apprentice in name only. I am the Master. That is why you will die here… to destroy her, and to save you."

He charged at her. She would not be able to physically withstand him and retreated, keeping him at lunge distance, only letting the tips of their weapons connect. He was fast, and very, very strong.

She wasn't going to defeat him staying on the defensive. Her companions were tied up in defending her against the other assassins. It was up to her to defeat him.

She sidestepped and spiraled forward, suddenly aggressive; he stood his ground, but his guard faltered, and she pierced his leg before leaping away again.

He didn't even flinch; the snarl or smile or whatever was on his face did not change as he charged at her again. How? He should have been at least a little disabled!

She needed to get him more decisively, and not in the same way she had before. He'd be waiting for that, now. She gave him a push with the Force and followed it, avoiding his counterattacks as he caught his balance. He had no defense to speak of, purely focused on dominating his opponent through sheer brute strength.

She caught right up to him and stabbed him through the chest, almost within the embrace of his long arms.

This time his smile grew wider. He smelled of death and rotting flesh and dust. Yet his heart beat while her saber impaled it.

She stared in shock; he wasn't showing the least sign of injury or weakness, and he certainly wasn't falling over dead. No wonder he didn't care about defense. Was he truly immortal?

No time to worry about that, she was too close, she was going to die, she was going to die-

"Hey! Cut that out!" Atton yelled, and her companions closed in, rainbow of lightsabers held high, as she took advantage of their distraction to flip quickly away.

" _You cannot fight him here,_ " Kreia's voice broke into her mind. " _Run for now!_ "

No time to argue. "We need to go, now!" she called to her companions, and together they fled down the long dim passage out to the barren valley.

Atton dashed for the cockpit the moment he'd cleared the boarding ramp, and it was only a few seconds later he'd gotten the engines going and the ship in the air, bound for space.

She collapsed in the co-pilot's seat, sweat still pouring off her. All her new-found power, and she couldn't defeat Sion. How would she ever defeat Visas's master, the one who devoured entire worlds?

She sent Atton the coordinates for Nar Shaddaa. He raised an eyebrow as he entered them and the Ebon Hawk reached the safety of hyperspace. "What, you got some handsome boyfriend in the Red Sector?"

She blushed and shook her head. _You're my boyfriend, silly_. Boyfriend. The word still gave her thrills and she didn't believe in it yet. They hadn't discussed it. "No, Mandalore has business there. Since we haven't received word from Kavar yet…"

"Hey." She looked over at him curiously at his interruption. "You're doing that thing again."

"Huh? What thing?"

"That not-smiling thing. You haven't smiled since…" Since he'd kissed her.

"Sion doesn't make me feel like smiling, strangely enough."

A sly look crossed his face. "Yeah, but he's not here right now. You can relax. I bet you'll smile in five seconds."

She sighed in his general direction. "Atton, that trick is for kids."

"Works on adults too. Five, four, three, two…"

She'd perfected a deadpan look during her time in the military – the best way to deal with casualty reports, weather reports, unwanted advances, and other bad news. But it was Atton, and his presence was warm next to her, and her control cracked just at the end. He was right. She could relax now. Korriban was behind them, and unless she had a very, very good reason to go back, she was never returning.

"Aha! You're smiling. Knew you had it in you, Miss Jedi."

"Shut up, Atton."

He reached out and took her hand. "Only if I have to because you're kissing me."

She almost rolled her eyes, but let him tug her out of her seat and onto his lap. They were in hyperspace, he didn't have to watch the console. "I should go let the others know what's going on…"

"And yet here you are, on my lap. The others can wait like ten minutes. C'mere."

Force, she loved him.

.

She wandered the ship late that night, when even Atton was asleep, wondering about all the things that had happened in the last couple days. She'd found resolution of her past, and her strength in the Force, and her match in her enemy… but all of that found little hold on her mind in the face of the fact that Atton loved her.

It wasn't 'safe'. It wasn't accepted by Jedi tradition. But little in life was 'safe'. Was she just making excuses? It was far too late to back out now, even if she wanted to, and perhaps muddling over the problem, if problem it was, would just make it worse.

"What is love, anyway?" she murmured aloud. Love was Life was the Force, but…

"Answer: Many organic meatbags find that question difficult to answer, Master, but I believe I can provide you with a satisfactory definition."

She gasped and spun. "HK. I thought you were powered down for the night."

"Query: Why would I do that, Master, when you inefficient meatbags need to do the same? Who would watch the ship? That ridiculous T3 unit?"

"Oh… okay. T3 would do just fine, though." HK shook his head slightly in exasperation. "Well, I'm curious. What's your definition of love?"

"Definition: 'Love' is making a shot to the knees of a target 120 kilometers away using an Aratech sniper rifle with a tri-light scope."

"…Errr…?"

"Statement: This definition, I am told, is subject to interpretation. Obviously, love is a matter of odds. Not many meatbags could make such a shot, and strangely enough, not many meatbags would derive love from it." No, she had no idea what he was talking about. He loved his precise, deadly skillset? "Yet for me, love is knowing your target, putting them in your targeting reticule, and together, achieving a singular purpose… against statistically long odds."

She sat there for a long moment. "…I… suppose… there is a metaphor there? It seems that you would be the one doing all the work, while your target simply has to not move out of the way. Or know that you are there." She tilted her head. "Perhaps if you were shooting at each other."

"Statement: Master, you may be overthinking it."

She chuckled. "Revan used to tell me that all the time. She, who never seemed to think twice and always came to the conclusion she wanted… But it's your fault for using such a strange metaphor."

"Answer: It is one that I understand, Master, and it seems that you do too, despite your contrariness on insisting on its perfection."

"Hmm." She and Atton certainly had statistically long odds against achieving happiness together. Probably impossible odds. But just for a moment, they could find peace in each other. She might have found resolution from her past, but it still whispered to her, and she knew Atton's did too. Their solace in each other might not last. Their affection was still new, and exciting in its newness, but with time and familiarity even that might not be a shield against her old fears. But that wasn't the point of love. Love was not there to hide behind. Love was just love, and fear would not break it, not this time, not if she had anything to say about it.

She sat in silence for a moment, HK looming in the darkness of his closet. T3 was down in the engine room, and Goto was probably in the garage. The others slept, their spirits more or less tranquil. It was just her and Revan's droid. She wondered where Revan was, and if she knew her droid was with Selyn. Probably not, considering he had no idea where Revan was himself. "HK, you remember the Sith Lord in the Korriban Academy?"

"Answer: Master, I hope you are asking for the sake of conversational nuance, and not because you fear my memory has been damaged further. Of course I remember. Lord Sion, you called him."

"Kreia said he could not be killed. As an expert on killing people, do you have any ideas on how to defeat him?"

"Answer: Master, when conventional weapons will not work, then one must resort to other means of assassination. When Jedi… or Sith… or whatever they call themselves, cannot be defeated with weapons, then use doubt."

"What do you mean?"

"Evaluation: It seems as if this Sith Lord is somehow able to keep fighting, no doubt by drawing on his connection to the Force to keep him alive even after suffering grievous harm. It may be whatever pain he experienced in the past was so great, that the technique he used to recover from it… and sustain himself… also gives him an incredibly high pain threshold. I know many Jedi and Sith have exhibited strange behavior in near-death situations. This may be another example of this."

"But I stabbed him in the heart…"

"Observation: It does seem unlikely, master, but I have observed that you – allies included – seem to be able to recover from the most grievous of injuries, and quickly as well. Perhaps it is not as uncommon as you think. Besides, it really doesn't matter what you believe."

She caught an odd inflection there. "What I believe?"

"Clarification: Master, I spoke literally. It doesn't matter what you believe – it matters what this Sith Lord believes. If his strength comes from his connection to the Force, then you must undermine that connection, master."

"Ah, so that's what you mean by using doubt."

"Statement: Indeed, Master. Make him doubt himself, his beliefs, or his intentions. Such things disrupt connections to the Force – and death soon follows."

"I understand. You seem to have thought this through before."

"Cautionary: Oh, no, master. In fact, that is the worst thing you can do." She frowned quizzically at him, and the glowing orange eyes turned to look at her in the dim light. "Explanation: Statistically, overplanning the assassination of a Jedi or a Sith seems to backfire. Extrapolation: There are many theorists who claim Jedi can see the future, and I do not know if that is true, but it seems impulsive acts are more common to succeed than planned incidents. Jedi, like sand-kivers, seem to sense trouble a few seconds before it happens. They are tricky little pests."

"Even from a droid?"

"Answer: Sometimes, even from a droid, Master."

She nodded. She didn't let the fact that HK had gone back to using the word 'Jedi' bother her. To him, all Force-users were the same. And she knew what he meant. The Force guided her in battle, warned her of others' intentions… but if the others did not know their own intentions when they moved, she would have no warning. "A good lesson to take to heart for my own safety, not to let myself rely wholly on the Force to protect me in battle."

"Statement: Yes, Master. In fact, in addition to traps, mines, and orbital bombardment, Revan and the Sith often employed meatbag assassins for some Jedi, skilled in the same techniques that I was trained in." _Like Atton_. "Strangely enough, Revan believed that meatbags that did not use or believe in the Force were especially important, since in many respects, they were more difficult for Jedi to detect. Revan had many of them trained to 'hide their minds,' as it were. Again, once these techniques were learned, the percentage of living Jedi began to decrease accordingly."

"I've heard about that." She did not say from where. "I wonder how it works so well, when such strong emotions are channeled." Atris had trained her handmaidens not to feel the Force. Was there some parallel there?

"Answer: Obviously, a Force Sensitive broadcasting such emotions puts themselves at risk of not using the Force 'properly,' since to use it seems to require an inner control that most meatbags do not possess. As much as the Jedi could not use such a technique, the Sith Lords cannot use it for much the same reasons – such passions as guilt, lust, and fear are rarely strengths to the Sith code."

"Really? I thought they relied on such passions…"

"Statement: Not those ones, Master. Revan felt it was ironic that only people who had experienced such passions could harm Jedi in such a way – that to kill Jedi, one had to be… in terms you will understand, a human being. She found that quite amusing."

Atton's voice echoed in her head. " _You're still allowed to be human, you know._ "

"Yes… I suppose she would have. So she used this extensively?"

"Answer: Revan claimed that psychological warfare against Jedi was important because much of their power comes from their state of mind, their connection to this religion called the 'Force'. Revan said that many Jedi have the capability to form connections to life around them, although few of them realized the extent to which this is possible. Recollection: I believe my Master speculated that many Jedi did not fully form such connections because of their discipline, because they never opened their lives to the passions around them."

She wondered if there were hidden messages there for her. She connected with others too easily, loved too easily, although until now she had never allowed herself to _love_. Was it good or bad that she was 'opening her life to the passions around her'? Would it make it even easier for her to form Force Bonds with others? Ones that could severely harm her? Would she become blind to the Force again? Would she find herself able to hide in the Force? The last was unlikely, even while being in love.

HK went on. "It is a thing the Jedi code could not teach, apparently. One simply knew it instinctively, or not. Observation: Master, I am somewhat surprised that I need to explain this to you at all, considering your past with Revan."

"In what way?"

"Answer: Why, she said you had such capability, Master, but it would be your downfall. To tie so much of yourself into others – if they suffer or die, then you would die as well."

She felt ice trickle down her back. Not only if Kreia died, but if any of her students died, would she die as well? Would her death affect them? Would one of their deaths affect each other? She didn't want to consider it. She wanted them all to live long lives once they'd restored stability to the Republic, but she had to be at least a little realistic as well. One or all of them might very well die on this journey.

Was this also a thing Revan had planned? To see Selyn finally destroyed by her own friends?

"Observation: I think Revan pitied you, master. It was very insulting, if I may say so."

"Thanks, HK," she said faintly.

"Clarification: Oh, I meant it was insulting that she pitied anyone, Master. She was so strong normally."

"Of course." She stood. "Thanks for the talk. I have a lot to think about. Good night."

The droid didn't answer as she walked to the women's dorm.

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On Nar Shaddaa, while Mandalore went to find more soldiers for his clan and Bao-Dur, Mira, and Atton went to stock up on essential stores, Selyn walked the city with Kreia.

She had questions, so many questions, questions she didn't want the others to hear. And Kreia knew it. They could have spoken in the privacy of their minds on the ship, but she didn't want to take any chances.

Even now, as they threaded their way through crowded, squalid streets, she did not ask aloud. Speaking through the Force gave much more nuance than aloud.

She had to brace herself. She did not think Kreia would be angry for even these sorts of questions; in fact, she expected Kreia would want her to ask. But she still had a solid wariness about upsetting or disappointing a teacher that she had learned in her childhood and never quite forgotten. "… _Kreia, what are you? Are you a Jedi or a Sith?_ "

Kreia's hooded head turned slightly towards her. " _Does it matter? Of course it does, such titles allow you to break the galaxy into light and dark, categorize it. Perhaps I am neither, and I hold both as what they are, pieces of a whole. Know that I am your teacher, and that is enough._ "

It made sense. Kreia taught neither darkness nor light, neither to destroy the galaxy nor to heal it, only to observe it and know it for what it was, and the Force likewise. Though always with the sense that all were tools to be used, not entities to be loved. Or hated. Not that Selyn wished to hate anything. " _Then what were you?_ "

Kreia paused. Her voice held no sharpness, only an aching, half-bitter weariness. " _What do you wish to hear? That I once believed in the code of the Jedi? That I felt the call of the Sith, that perhaps, once, I held the galaxy by its throat? That for every good work that I did, I brought equal harm upon the galaxy? That perhaps what the greatest of the Sith Lords knew of evil, they learned from me?_ " Dark things indeed, as Sion had hinted at. The old woman sighed. " _What would it matter now? There is only so much comfort in knowing such things, and it is not who I am now._ "

" _I understand._ " She understood all too well. She and Kreia were similar. Was she a mirror of everyone she met? Was _that_ why she formed Force Bonds so quickly? " _But the past still echoes, and I wish to know yours._ " _You know mine_.

" _Very well. …There are dark places in the galaxy where few tread. Ancient centres of learning, of knowledge…_ " Kreia's voice became lower, sharp as a vibroblade, fragmented as a broken glass. " _But I did not walk alone. And to be united by hatred is a… fragile alliance at best. My will was not law… there were disagreements. Ambition. Hunger for power. There are techniques within the Force against which there is no defence. I was cast down, stripped of my power. Exiled. I suffered… indignities. And fell into darkness._ " It was so similar to her own story, judged, abandoned, exiled. Kreia's voice softened, sad and sincere. " _Learn from me, from my mistakes, and use that knowledge to become greater than I. That is all I ask of you, and that is all I desire. In you all my hopes rest, for the future, for the Force._ "

Sion had said he had bested her in combat. "I need more than that, Kreia…"

Kreia stopped, and she stopped as well as her teacher took her gloved hand in her old, withered one. "If it means so much to you, then this I swear to you upon my life… upon _our_ lives… that when your training is complete, I will answer everything. There shall be no more shadows between us, only truth that exists between master… and apprentice."

Soon, then. With Kreia and HK's help, she could defeat Sion.

.

Early the next morning, before she'd even had breakfast, T3 rolled out of the comm room and into her shins in great excitement, warbling shrilly.

"Oh dear, slow down, what is it?"

Beeping, slightly calmer.

"Thanks, T3. What did Kelborn say?"

Beeping and whistling.

"So Kavar is trying to reach me. Let's to ask Atton to set course for Onderon."

T3 twittered triumphantly as she jogged up to the cockpit, where Atton greeted her with a smirk and a wink.


	11. Part 11: The General's Resolve

Author's note: This chapter's theme is Cyberbird!

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Part 11: The General's Resolve

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Crowded into Mandalore's control centre, they listened to Kelborn outline the situation.

"This Kavar said the Queen had arranged safe passage for you to Onderon, but I don't know how good that offer is anymore. This morning General Vaklu met with the Council of Lords and declared that the Queen was guilty of treason. The military is divided on who to support, but I doubt that Queen Talia and her advisor will survive until nightfall. The Royal Palace is well fortified, I'm told, but Vaklu has new allies: Sith soldiers and their masters. The war has also driven the caged beasts in the streets mad somehow. Bralor and I concur. She doesn't stand a chance."

"How does one commit treason if one is the Queen?" Mira murmured to herself.

Kreia stepped forward, and the big soldiers around them quieted to hear her. "I sense there is something… stirring on the moon itself. Tell me, have your sensors picked up anything from Dxun?" Selyn closed her eyes briefly to reach out, but she could not feel whatever Kreia felt. Were her senses still muffled by her past here?

Kelborn started in surprise. "Y-yes… yes, we have. How…? We picked up some transmissions from nearby in the jungle. Zuka's satellite relay has also picked up several shuttle launches with old Sith transmitter IDs. Some sort of staging base at the Tomb."

"Those transmissions are the enemy," Kreia said. "They are linked to the fate of Onderon. They must be stopped. Otherwise the Mandalorian is right – Master Kavar and Queen Talia won't survive this day."

Mandalore pointed at his soldiers. "Bralor, Kelborn, pick a few units and prep them for battle. I don't know what's going on at the Tomb, but you're gonna find out and shut it down. I'm heading for Onderon. Tekeri, I've got room for two more. I'm assuming you're one of them."

Selyn nodded. "I will go with Mandalore to the Royal Palace."

"And I as well," Kreia said.

She expected Mandalore to object to an old woman joining a full-on assault, but he only nodded back. "Then that's our group."

She turned to look at her companions. Atton was frowning a little that Kreia had jumped in before he'd had the chance to. "Atton. You've led before, haven't you?"

He straightened to something resembling attention. "Yes, ma'am. Two Flight leader in the Blue Banshee Squadron." And his experience with the Sith assassination squad, but neither he nor she was going to mention that.

"You will lead the others to assist Bralor and Kelborn."

"Hacking through beasts and jungles? Sounds like a job for me, as usual."

"Of course she'd pick her boyfriend," Mira groaned, then lifted her head when Selyn turned her attention to her.

"You're his second-in-command, Mira. Together, you should be able to overcome anything." She held all of their eyes in turn. "Be careful, and be strong in the Force." Bao-Dur, Mira, Mical, Visas, and the three droids formed a formidable team; they'd be invaluable to the Mandalorians, even if they couldn't be at her side directly.

"Hey." She met grey eyes. "You too."

She nodded, then turned to Mandalore. "How are we getting to Onderon? The shuttle again?"

A low chuckle came from inside the silver helmet. "Let me show you."

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Plummeting through Onderon's atmosphere at insane speeds, Selyn clutched her safety harness. "I thought you said riding a Basilisk was fun."

"What are you talking about? This _is_ fun! I haven't flown one of these babies in year!" Mandalore whooped at the controls. So strange, to see a man in his 50's acting like such a kid. "If only we had the main guns working… The secondary cannons will have to do." She felt a 'chunk, chunk' as ancient laser cannons fired from somewhere in the hull very close to her.

The ground was approaching them very fast. Selyn took a deep, calming breath, and closed her eyes, bracing for impact. Either Mandalore would get them down in one piece, or they would all die, and there was nothing she could do about it either way. One of those situations where being a Jedi didn't help being a mortal.

There was an impact that slammed Selyn deep into her seat, inertial compensators notwithstanding, and a colossal thunderous noise, and then blessed stillness. Kreia had been grimly silent this whole time.

Mandalore sprang up from his seat, popping the hatch and diving out, blaster rifle at the ready. She heard screams from outside the Basilisk, and fires burning. "Talia's formed an alliance with the Mandalorians! Destroy them!"

"Looks like they still remember us," Mandalore said, chuckling, as Selyn crawled out of the Basilisk after him. Uniformed soldiers with brown armbands opened fire on them, and the three of them took cover behind one of the Basilisk's wings. Then a group of soldiers with blue armbands charged the others from the flank, and together with Mandalore's rifle, ended the assault on the trio.

The air was filled with smoke, but the sky was clear and blue, and Onderon's sun shone brightly. How incongruous. "We should head for the Sky Ramp," she said. "As I recall, it leads directly to the Royal Palace. Although if anyone has any less direct suggestions, I'm completely open to them." Suicide was pretty low on her to-do list, after all.

The captain of the blue-banded soldiers approached her. "General Tekeri, ma'am?"

She straightened. "Captain Riiken?"

"Thank goodness you're here. We were sent here to guide you to the Palace, but General Vaklu's men have taken the Sky Ramp. We've been cut off."

He kept sending twitchy glances towards the Basilisk, so she stepped forward briskly. "Escort me to the Palace, and we shall retake it. Is this your entire company?"

"Yes, ma'am, but there are other forces fighting in the city. We can rally them to our aid."

"Follow me." She reignited her lightsaber, held it aloft for a moment, then ran in the direction of the Sky Ramp.

Soldiers flocked to her with cries of hope and confidence, and she felt her heart beating with their feelings under the blue sky. Onwards, upwards, towards the wide high wall that led to her goal. She remembered this feeling, this feeling of oneness with her soldiers, the feeling that together they could drive back all who opposed them. She wasn't afraid of it anymore; she needed it now. They would save Queen Talia.

The security force-field across the road fizzled under their assault and they were through.

"A Jedi… here!? Men, attack!" The enemy captain sounded frightened, and she couldn't blame him. The enemy soldiers who had been frantically setting up more physical barricades behind it dove for cover and began sending a hail of fire back towards them. She was like a moon moth, flying erratically, unpredictably, her saber whirling, defending as many of her soldiers as she could while they fired back.

She was strong and in control. The Force flowed through her, filling her with serenity in the midst of chaos, flowed through her to her followers, giving them courage and resolve. This wasn't like fighting Mandalorians. This would be resolved with far less bloodshed and sacrifice on both sides.

As they cleared the defenders and moved on, Captain Riiken held out his comm to her: "The Palace has been breached. I repeat, the Palace has be- Aaargh!"

She had to hurry, then, and she ran on, soaring over the wall. Nearly a kilometre below on her left, the plains of Onderon stretched forever, golden to the horizon and the sky. Lasers were firing at her from blaster rifles and pistols above; she deflected them without a thought, bounding to battle up the long marble corridor.

"Tell command we need reinforcements! The Jedi is assaulting our centre and breaking through! We need reinforcements!"

The second group could not stop her. She could see the Palace now, gold and marble in the sky ahead of her, and still there were many soldiers ahead of her. She didn't want to kill them, didn't want them to die, but they opposed her, and she had no time to let them down easily. They would die for what they believed in, but she couldn't allow their sacrifice to be validated. She felt sad for them, as much as the General could be, in an abstract, detached way.

"She's still alive! Run, run!"

The man who screamed, suddenly screamed again as a black vibroblade slashed across his chest. The black-clad Sith who had killed him stepped forward and addressed more masked men in black. "Hold the line. These cowards will be dealt with." One by one, the wavering Vaklu soldiers were killed, and now the way was blocked by much deadlier opponents.

But she remembered what HK had told her about fighting Sith; what Atton had told her. The Sith didn't fight fair. So she didn't have to, either. "Focus fire! If anyone has grenade launchers, rocket launchers, use them now!"

"Well, well, you like the big guns too, huh?" Mandalore aimed his left arm and a mini-rocket shot from it, exploding in the face of a Sith warrior.

Doubt was her greatest weapon, HK had said. "I've already won," she cried, believing it with all her heart. "No matter what lies ahead, no matter what you have prepared for me, no matter what you are concocting on Dxun, I will sweep you away, and you and your master will fail. Your power is nothing."

"Foolish Jedi! You don't even know-" The Sith who spoke turned to face her in close combat, and was shot by Captain Riiken.

.

She fought on until she reached the great antechamber to the Palace's throne room. Colonel Tobin faced her, with many Sith and Onderon soldiers with him, but she had her own army, with Kreia and Mandalore.

Unfortunately, Tobin also had on his side a baby drexl, one of the great winged creatures that soared the skies of Onderon, the deadliest predator in the entire Onderon system. It had broken down the door to the throne room, and General Vaklu and more soldiers had just entered.

Tobin's face was red with rage. "Will you just die, already!? You will go no further than this."

She had to get past him quickly. "I told you that door would not stop me, Tobin. Your pet drexl cannot defeat me either. Surrender now."

"Never!" Tobin gestured to the Sith flanking the baby drexl, and the creature swung around from the door to face her, towering over her ominously.

It might not defeat her, but it wasn't going to be easy to fight, either. And Queen Talia was in terrible danger while she was delayed. She hoped Kavar could keep things under control until she got in. At least the drexl wasn't attacking the Queen.

It screamed at her and raised its meter-long claws to attack.

.

Fighting alongside the Mandalorians hadn't been that bad. This Kelborn guy that knew Selyn was pretty helpful in guiding them through the jungle, and between the seven of them – he wasn't counting Goto, the fat lump – he thought they impressed the know-it-all Mandos in the way they breached the Sith camp perimetre and held their ground in the firefight that followed. Impressing a Mandalorian wasn't easy. That was why they basically only cared about Revan and Mandalore these days. In that order, probably.

Now the Tomb of Freedon Nadd rose before them, carved from obsidian and looking like it had been completed yesterday, although Kelborn told him it was hundreds of years old. He could feel the Dark Side lurking within it, as sure as he'd felt it on Korriban. It was… less aware, than Korriban was, but it still was going to be dangerous for their group without Selyn. But hey. They didn't need Selyn to solve everything for them. _I can do this. I can prove myself to her – to me_.

"What a terrible name he has," Mira commented. "I'd say he can't help what his parents called him, but I thought Sith Lords were supposed to pick their own evil name or something?"

"It probably wasn't a terrible name hundreds of years ago," Mical said earnestly.

"More importantly, they are preparing for us," Visas said. "We should enter now, before they are ready."

Atton turned to Kelborn. "Hey, it's been great fighting with you, but I think we ought to go in alone now. You never know what's inside a Sith hole, and we might be better prepared to deal with it than you guys. No offense."

"None taken. You fought well outside. Go do your Jedi thing, and we'll hold here against Sith reinforcements. However, I doubt we'll be able to keep in comm contact through those stone walls, so if you're not back in three hours, or don't at least send word on your progress, we will come in after you." The slitted helmet nodded sarcastically. "The General would have our heads if we just let you get killed without finding out how."

"Heh, she wouldn't do that. All right. Got it. Good luck and all that."

It took them a while to get down to the central chamber of the tomb; the Sith were plentiful and they'd been training bomas and maalraas to fight for them, taking over the creatures' minds with the Force or something. At least they hadn't gotten any zakkegs, Mira had mentioned they were a pain. Still, their progress was difficult and dangerous, and every time they were held up or attacked he chafed at the time they were wasting. _Relax. Impatience can hide you from them, but then you can't use the Force to fight well. Selyn will hold on until you get there_.

The central chamber was cavernous, with a massive statue of the tomb's Sith Lord looming at the back, and an ornamental pool down the centre, filled with what appeared to be blood. But it could have been a trick of the dim light, as well. A ring of Sith stood around the pool, heads bowed, concentrating as purple lightning coalesced from nothing and danced around the ceiling. It looked like some kind of ritual. Actually, it looked like a perfect target to attack, to mess up the Sith and help Selyn.

Atton drew back his head and turned to Mira. "Hey, you have any mines left?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Let's set up our own minefield out here. We'll draw them out, could get some easy kills. And HK, better set up a sniper position back here."

Mira gave him a long, suspicious look before reaching for her demolitions pack. "How much do you think about killing Sith?"

"Maybe I'm not as dumb as you think I am," he retorted. "Go on, we'll cover you." He nodded to the others to follow him.

"So this is what a Sith rave looks like," he drawled loudly. "Could use some lighting variation, all you've got going on right now is purple. Could use a better DJ, too." He strolled in right through the centre of the door, the line of allies hopefully shielding Mira's actions from the view of the enemy.

The black-robed men turned to him, apparently surprised that anyone would walk in on them, and the lightning sparked and exploded; one of the Sith fell over dead instantly. _One down and we didn't even have to do anything. But the rest of this won't be so easy_.

One of them stepped forward. "You are too late. We have done what needed to be done, and now Onderon shall fall, and on this breaking point the Republic shall die. But what is this? Ah… of course, the Force has guided you here. It echoes within you, yet I sense it is… untrained."

"Frak off, we're working on it," Atton retorted.

"Why did she make you leader again?" Mical muttered.

"Shut your face, Mick."

Annoyingly, the Sith seemed to want to talk first before fighting, unperturbed by their bickering. Or maybe encouraged by their bickering. "It is good you sought us out. This tomb is strong with the Dark Side. Here is where you will take your first steps along the path to your destiny."

 _Destiny, shmestiny. Those are excuses_. He couldn't deny he felt it. _'Get mad and tear them apart.' That's the Dark Side speaking, isn't it? We have to stop them. Have to fight them, to protect Selyn, according to all Kreia's mumbo-jumbo. But we have to do it with the Light_.

"You have within you the potential to wield the Force. I am not speaking of the ways of the Jedi or their flawed teachings – their Order was rooted in weakness."

"No, you're wrong," he protested. Selyn was the opposite of weak. Selyn was the strongest person he knew. Sure, the Jedi were flawed, but she believed in what was important about them, right?

"What lies has your Master spread? What have they denied you in their ignorance? The Jedi preach calm and serenity while wallowing in weakness and hypocrisy. They would have you become a puppet of the Force. They would have you deny the strength of your emotions – the strength of your own will. Can't you feel the power of this place? It echoes through you like a second voice. Accept it… embrace it."

All right, all jokes were off. "Everyone tells me I'm an idiot," he said quietly. "And I don't mind. Usually. But from what you've just said, you're a bigger idiot than me! The strength of my emotions? The strength of my will? You don't know anything about me!"

"Atton," Bao-Dur said, reaching out to him in the Force.

Right. He stopped and took a deep breath. Calm, control. He was in danger of slipping just from how dumb this Sith was. It was almost embarrassing. Unless that was the Sith's ploy, in which case… clever. But annoying. "Thanks, Bao-Dur."

He turned back to the Sith. He didn't know why he was compelled to tell him just how wrong he was, but if he did it with anger and arrogance, that was a one-way ticket to nope-ville. "It's not easy to be Sith _or_ Jedi. You need strength to be either. But she's not teaching us to deny our emotions – only not to let them rule us. And that takes more willpower than just trying to be the strongest, or trying to conquer things, or whatever – to _feel_ , and still do the right thing, whatever your definition of 'right' is. Your ideas of 'power' and 'strength' have nothing to do with what's really important!"

Memories of Selyn came to mind; listening to him mercilessly verbally abuse the Jedi and still giving him a second chance; doing her best to assist helpless people who had no way to repay her; struggling to move on with the guilt of Malachor before she'd been to Korriban. The way she had melted into his arms in the cargo hold, had dared to show him weakness, had dared trust him. She was fighting to be a person even as she fought to save the galaxy from the repercussions of her own unavoidable actions. How many of the Sith could say they did that?

Rage boiled up again in him and with an effort, he quelled it again. "A puppet, huh? You sit there spewing the same trite nonsense I've heard from every low-level Sith I've ever met, and you think we're the ignorant ones? You need to take a good hard look in the mirror before you try converting Jedi again. Amateur."

The others stared at him. He could feel it, could feel at least Mira and Bao-Dur putting two and two together, but somehow it didn't bother him right now. All that mattered was standing up to the coward before him. No, not even that. Standing up to the coward inside himself.

The Sith raised his lightsaber. "Then instead of freedom and power… you have chosen death."

Atton grinned. "Well, that makes my life a lot easier. Come get it."

.

The drexl's claws lanced down – and impaled one of the Sith standing guard over it. Selyn's lightsaber, raised to block as she dodged, lowered slowly as she watched. The other Sith screamed. "Ahhh! I've lost control of the beast!"

Tobin turned pale. "The ritual on Dxun: it has been interrupted?" Huzzah for Atton, Kelborn, and company.

The drexl roared and stomped on the other Sith, then turned to Tobin and his soldiers.

She didn't wait, charging ahead to the throne room while they were out of the way. "Soldiers of Onderon, Mandalore, I'm counting on you! Defeat that drexl!"

"Yes, ma'am! We got this!" Captain Riiken called.

"Thanks, very thoughtful of you," Mandalore said, with no sarcasm she could detect. And usually Mandalore's sarcasm was heavy. He was a confusing man.

The throne room was a confused melee of soldiers, the Queen's taking cover behind upturned tables and chairs, Vaklu's laying down cover fire from behind pillars so the others could charge into close combat range. The Queen was crouched behind her throne, head down, but Selyn could feel her anger, frustration, and determination – she wanted to fight alongside her men, and didn't like that she was too important to get sniped. Kavar stood before the throne, both blue lightsabers batting aside incoming blaster fire, waiting for Vaklu himself to get closer. He caught sight of her dashing into the room, and his look of grim determination melted into a relieved, familiar grin.

There was only one of her, and maybe fifty soldiers in front of her. She could take them, but it would mean killing them all. If she and Kavar worked together, perhaps they could be convinced to surrender. But that would mean capturing their leader. "Vaklu! Your coup has ended. Throw down your arms!"

"Destroy the Jedi!" Vaklu commanded his men. "I'll take out Kavar!"

That was exactly what she didn't want, but she didn't have time to restrategize – twenty blaster rifles were already pointed in her direction and she had to move fast if she didn't want to become a smoking corpse.

So she did. Skimming low across the white stone floor, blaster bolts hissing off her armour, she leaped impossibly high into the midst of the soldiers, so now if they tried to shoot her they risked injuring their comrades. She was never still, ducking, weaving, making great looping kicks and sweeps with her lightsaber. The soldiers screamed and fell back, some of them missing blasters or hands or arms.

Vaklu was a good warrior, she could tell from the glimpses she caught of him from the corner of her eye. But he was no match for Kavar, who had always been one of the best sparring partners in the Coruscant Temple, and he was already losing when Queen Talia stepped from behind her throne and put a pistol shot between his eyes.

His defeated soldiers cried out in panic and threw down their weapons.

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Kavar walked up to her while she was still looking around the beautiful, though battle-scarred room, avoiding the political fallout from her victory. "I'm glad you came. I was worried my message wouldn't make it in time."

"I'm glad I was in time, too," she said. "It was too close." If she hadn't arrived when she did, Kavar would have been overwhelmed and shot. As it was… He was holding his side, where his clothes had been burned, so he hadn't escaped unscathed.

"I had faith in you." He smiled. "I'm glad to see you haven't lost your edge. They never knew what hit them. But did you have to come in a Basilisk? You know how the people of Onderon feel about Mandalorians."

She smiled. Kavar was mostly teasing. "It was our best shot. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You made it, and that's all that matters. But something confused me about that battle."

"What is it?"

"You move like the Force is with you, but I feel nothing but emptiness from you still."

She shook her head. "I don't know what to tell you. I don't know how my connection has returned, only that I am strong in the Force once again. I was hoping you might have an answer. The other Masters do not."

"I will confer with them. So you have seen them?"

"Yes, Vrook and Zez Kai-Ell are on Dantooine now. Master Vash… is dead."

"Ah." He looked down for a moment. "May she rest in the Force. But the others are gathering?"

"Vrook said you were waiting for the Sith to reveal themselves, and they have. I met them some time ago on Peragus, and again on Korriban."

"And again here, although I do not think any of the Lords was here. Yes, it is time. Will you take me to Dantooine, then? We must plan our next move, and you have the most insight into their activities, I suspect. And perhaps together we can figure out what has happened to you."

"Yes, we will take you." She looked around. "I'm not sure where Kreia and Mandalore are, but there isn't a lot of room in the Basilisk anyway. Will you take other transport to meet us on Dxun, where our ship is?"

"Certainly. I'll meet you there this evening, once I've got this wound patched up and completed things here." He bowed to her and turned to stride away as she bowed back, heading in Queen Talia's direction.

Queen Talia. She was gazing at Kavar, and with a look in her eye that told Selyn everything. She'd felt herself making that look when she was younger, after all.

Kavar probably didn't even know Talia was in love with him. Or if he did, he was ignoring it, like a good Jedi.

If Selyn was taking him back to Dantooine personally, she would have to be ready to have a long, awkward talk with her old friend.

.

Atton met her at the ramp to the Ebon Hawk; his gaze flickered over Mandalore, Kreia, and Kavar before returning to her. "Hey, babe, how was your vacation on Onderon?"

"It went well, thanks to you," she answered, determined not to react to the endearment, not with Kavar right there. Mandalore snorted, Kreia vanished into the ship, and Kavar looked confused. "This is Master Kavar. Kavar, this is our pilot, Atton. How was your mission?"

"No scary Sith Lords, only the worst conversion attempt you ever did see. 'The Light Side is all lies and weakness, only losers join the Light Side!'" He affected a sarcastically stupid voice and she had to laugh. He smirked at her reaction and asked: "So where we headed?"

"To Dantooine."

"Sure thing."

Inside, she found her other students waiting for her, and she touched their spirits, praising them all for their work. They seemed more comfortable with themselves and each other now. It seemed that sending them out on their own, forcing them not to rely on her, had been good for their training, their confidence in the Force. And it seemed that they agreed with Atton on the Sith's attempt at conversion; they had all stayed strong in their convictions, they had not given in to anger, despair, greed, jealousy, pride…

Although Mira drew her aside and said: "I don't think Atton is just a pilot, Sel. He's got history with the Sith."

"I know," she said calmly. "He told me a long time ago. But those are his secrets, not mine."

"All right, I won't pry, just… Look, it's not that I don't trust him after all this time – although I still think he's kind of a jerk and I can't believe you guys hooked up a power coupling-"

"We haven't really, er, gone that far-"

"Whatever – he's an okay guy and all, not as dumb as he lets on, but don't you worry for him?"

"No," she said. "I trust him completely. He wants no part of the Dark Side. Whatever his past, he's here for us now."

"He's here for _you_ ," Mira said with a grin. "But okay. That helps. Man, your old teacher is pretty hot. Too bad he's, like, ancient."

"He's only just over forty," Selyn protested, laughing incredulously.

"Yeah? And I'm just over twenty. Ancient. You're old, too. No offense."

Selyn laughed and turned to talk to Mical.

.

Her companions were all in good spirits by their victory, and it took some time for them to settle down enough for her to have some private conversation with Kavar. Eventually, they both ended up in the comm room, and Kavar shut the door to keep eavesdroppers out.

She looked at him, properly, for the first time since before the Wars. There were more wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, a litte more grey in his curly brown hair, and he looked more tired than she remembered, but otherwise he was the same as he had ever been.

First, he enfolded her in a brotherly hug, one she gladly returned. "The Force works in mysterious ways, it seems," he said warmly, holding her at arms' length and studying her face as she studied his. "There are times I'm not convinced it doesn't have a sense of humour. We spent all this time looking for you, and you came to us. I thought you might return to Onderon. Just in time, too."

She blinked at him as they sat down. "You sent me a message, didn't you?"

"No, from before then. From when Revan disappeared, from when Katarr was destroyed." He tapped a finger on the console thoughtfully. "I told the other Masters that our only chance to figure out what was happening to us was to find you – and try to understand what happened to you. I don't know how much you know, but this threat that's striking at the Jedi… it's attacking us through the Force. Vrook didn't believe me. But he was willing to travel to Dantooine, if only to help the settlers there… and perhaps protect what was left of the Jedi Enclave. Whatever the reason, having us all drop out of sight I thought might make the enemy more bold – but then you happened. You came back, and you became a new target for whoever was attacking us."

"The others said it was your plan. Why did you choose these places to hide?"

"They were places touched by war. And we thought there was a chance you would return to these worlds, if only to try and make peace with what happened there during the war. We were looking for you. You were our last hope." His eyes met hers, and he looked very serious and grim. Now she felt sorry, although she couldn't have known how desperate the situation was while she wandered in exile. What had he felt, trying to deal with that unknown threat as friends and colleagues disappeared across the galaxy? And she had been ignorant of all of it.

Her voice was small. "Looking for me?" Zez had said Kavar had said she might return, but he hadn't said he was looking for her.

"Yes, at least, that's what I asked them to do. I believed you are the key to the whole war."

Surely not. She was only one floundering Jedi, and until very recently, not even a Jedi, only a broken human. "How could that be?"

Kavar shook his head. "When you stood before us in the Council chamber on Coruscant, we felt something from you that we'd never felt before – it was as if the Force had died within you, leaving you hollow. We had suspicions as to why this was, but nothing definite. But rather than try to understand, we sent you away."

There was regret in his voice, a deep and personal regret. She thought of the recording from her trial, where none of the Masters had really said anything supportive of her, especially Kavar, whom she thought might have – but they'd changed as much as she had over the last ten years. She was finally ready to forgive them.

"I remember we said amongst ourselves it was because you needed space to yourself before returning to us, time to consider and accept what had happened. But I think we did it because at some level, there was fear. We live our whole lives in touch with the Force, in touch with life all around us, and you had a special gift in that regard. You formed bonds so easily, and they flowed deep between you and others. To see such emptiness in the Force standing before you, from someone who had once been so full of life… it is not an easy thing to face."

"Master Zez said the same thing," she said. "He said he questioned the Jedi Order because of what he felt at my trial."

"I think we all did, whether we wanted to admit it or not." He glanced at her, through her. "It's still not an easy thing to face. But I'm not afraid of you now. You're still you, even without the Force. You may be hollow, but you're not dead like you were then. No, the unsettling thing now is, that whatever is attacking us now, it is leaving something in its wake, something we haven't felt since you stood before us in judgment. The deaths of the Jedi, the destruction of Katarr, all of these things are leaving behind echoes, wounds in the Force, like yours." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I know it was not you who did these things, don't worry. But it is something connected to you in some way. It was clear to us, to me, that we had to find you to understand what it was. But we couldn't call you back from exile, because we didn't know where you'd gone. Plus, there was a chance we might put you in danger, and that we couldn't allow. If you couldn't feel the Force, then it would just make you a target." The hand on her shoulder squeezed gently. "I don't know how you got back, how you knew to come back, or whether the Force guided you without your knowing, but I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here, too. I didn't really know to return, though. Perhaps it was the Force, moving around me though I couldn't feel it then. It just… felt right to come back. I'd done all the thinking I could do in isolation. Although I did not come intentionally to confront my memories, my past… even though that was certainly what happened on Dxun. And yes, I am stronger for it. It seems you still know me better than I know myself."

"That's why I'm a Master," he said with a bit of a twinkle in his eye. "And we were always like-minded on many things. Anyway, now the Sith have revealed themselves. We shall confer on Dantooine, and then we can counterattack."

"What about Telos?"

Kavar looked confused. "Telos? But Telos was destroyed during the Jedi Civil War. I heard they're trying to rebuild."

"Atris is there. She intends to rebuild the Jedi Order there. I don't know if she knew you were still alive."

"Atris? I thought Atris had gone to Katarr."

"She never said anything about that…" Selyn frowned. "We only spoke once, briefly, and it was not in friendliness. She still blames me for everything that's happened since the War."

"Yes, Atris so prim and proper. She never liked me either. But of all of us trying to root out the Sith, I think you're the only one who's made any real progress. Even she must see that, no matter what she thinks of past events. Anyway, I don't know if we have time to go to Telos. Three Masters – and your miniature Jedi Academy – are a big enough target as it is. She won't like it, but I think we'll have to make plans without her this time. Speaking of your Academy…"

"Yes?" She braced herself.

"I'm amazed you've gathered so many Force-sensitives here on one ship. How did it happen?"

"It just sort of… grew. They happened to be in the right place at the right time for me to meet them, and they all agreed to follow me, to help the cause of fighting the Sith. Mira needed some convincing, and Visas was half-trained as a Sith and sent to kill me, and they're all a little unusual to be Jedi, except maybe for Mical. Still, I trust them, and they do their best in their own way."

"You have taught them well, from what I can tell, although I've only been with you a few hours. I suppose that is part of the mystery of why you feel the Force but I can't feel it from you; you can't have taught them such good technique without showing them."

"Yes, I can show them. They say they can't feel the wound in me, and since Korriban and what I faced there, I've felt stronger in the Force than ever – almost whole, again, and Mical and Mira have told me that I shine bright in the Force." Of course, Mira had wrapped it up in innuendo and confused her greatly before she understood what she was talking about…

"If you don't mind, I'd like to talk to them later, to find out more."

"Yes, go ahead, although they can be shy of strangers."

He chuckled. "Understandable. They haven't really known a proper Jedi besides you. …There are so few left, after all. …But I also notice that some of your teachings are a little… unorthodox."

"Yes, well, perhaps they are. I don't want to teach like Vrook or Atris, after all." She deflected for now. She wasn't ready for that part of the discussion.

He snorted at that. "All right, fair. And I think I understand why you're teaching adults – children would be no help against the Sith, and too precious to risk against the Sith. But it's more dangerous too, you know that. Taking the quick way out in gaining powerful allies in this fight may be costly."

"I don't believe that," she said. "They didn't have to join me. Even after they joined me, they didn't have to become Jedi. But they wanted to anyway, as soon as I asked them, even though I made it as clear as I could what it meant. They're sincere in their intentions, and they keep on their guard against the Dark. Perhaps most of them don't know what it's like to have the Force from as early as they can remember, but… I can remember a time without the Force, and I can relate to them. I think it's enough."

"Hopefully once we defeat the Sith, a more stable arrangement can be made," Kavar said. "For many reasons. Training so many students all by yourself, in these uncertain times, having them forced to confront the world before they're really comfortable in the Force… it's not an ideal situation." A diplomatic answer. "Visas Marr in particular should seek extra instruction."

"I don't disagree." At least he hadn't yet said she was doing it completely wrong and filling their heads with dangerous ideas. He was probably saving it for Vrook to say.

"But you've made a good start, and I hope they see you through to the end. They seem to reflect your trust in them. And they faced the Dark Side on Dxun, and emerged victorious. I only hope they aren't overconfident for the next time they face it."

"Mm."

They sat in silence for a moment. She wanted to praise her students more but was afraid it would sound like bragging.

Besides, she had more personal questions, and her eyes grew solemn as she glanced up at him. "Kavar…"

"Hm?"

"Can I ask… Why exactly did you exile me?" She tried to hide the lingering pain in her voice, but she didn't quite succeed. She _was_ ready to forgive him, whole-heartedly, but the betrayal she'd felt when he sided with the other Masters against her, didn't even listen to her, had cut deep. "You said you were afraid of the wound in me, that I needed time to myself, but is that all?" _Did you hate me for what I did in the Wars? No, not hate, you don't hate. You don't bear grudges. But you were so cold then_ …

Kavar sighed, frowning at his hands, and was silent a long moment. "You must understand – the exile was never the punishment you thought it to be. We could not have made you do such a thing, in any event. I think you knew, inside, what you needed to do in order to heal. You defied the Council. You followed Revan to war. I know why you did it, but in so doing, much more harm was done." Yes, thanks to her, Revan had gained many more followers than she would have otherwise. But if Revan had fallen as a sacrifice… But Kavar didn't even mention Revan. "All those lives during the Mandalorian Wars – and all those you served beside. Too much death leaves echoes in the Force; it is the price for having such connections. I suspect that is why you chose to accept the Council's judgment, to wander beyond the Rim. And why you traveled with no one."

"I don't know," she said. "I was still in too much shock to disobey then, I think. And yes, it was good for me in the end, and yes, for a while I never wanted to see another living being. It's just…" _I knew I might lose your friendship by doing what I did, and I did it anyway, because it was the only right thing for me to do. But losing you still hurt_.

Kavar seemed to understand, because he reached out and took her hand gently, looking into her eyes earnestly. "I have thought of you often since that day, and there are times when I wonder if being connected to the Force is always the gift it is believed to be. More than that, I cannot answer. This is something the Council must answer, not I."

"Kavar-"

"You must understand." He frowned, a pained expression. "This is hard for me, especially after all you've done to help. I want to tell you. You deserve to know. But it is necessary."

"Why?" Her hand was limp in his grasp.

He was silent a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was very quiet. "Did you know that when I was training you I considered making you my Padawan?"

She drew in her breath. "No." She'd longed to be his Padawan, she and a dozen other young students. She'd never known he was seriously considering it. "I didn't know you were considering anyone for a Padawan."

"I didn't, in the end. As you know. The demands of the Jedi Council were too great. But I considered you a friend. Perhaps I thought it would be better for us to stay friends, that we were too close already to make a good master and apprentice. So the decision that had to be made was not easy. But I cannot say anything more."

Friendzoned by her mentor. "I think you're right." She offered him a wistful smile. "Between our similarities, and the fact that I adored you, it would probably have been disastrous."

Now it was his turn to inhale sharply and open his eyes wide, his hand unconsciously squeezing hers. "Selyn, I-" He coughed an awkward laugh. "I'm glad you didn't say anything at the time."

"Yes, it would have ruined everything. Now we're both older and wiser… well, certainly older, perhaps not wiser…"

"But your pilot, your student… you care for him."

Memories of Atton's mouth on hers blurted into her mind, and she blushed violently. "I… I'm not sure what to say. I'm not sure if you would like what I have to say. But…" She took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. "I will trust you, and tell you anyway."

"I'm listening." He squeezed her hand again.

"I had a lot of time to think over ten years, uninterrupted by anything – violence, politics, other beings, even the Force. And I think… I think the traditional Jedi teachings are… wrong about a few things." She could tell he wanted to say something, but as he said, he was waiting until she was finished. "I know what you are probably going to say – those traditions are built on millenia of experience, and it's not right of me to question them after only thinking about them for ten years in isolation without even the Force to help inform my thoughts, but perhaps, also, it's given me a different perspective, that normally Jedi more involved with the Force and with the galaxy don't have the opportunity to get."

She had to take a deep breath after that sentence. "I didn't think specifically about love, not until I'd already known Atton for a while, but, it fit neatly into what I'd been thinking before. And that is… The Force is created by life, all life. The Force _is_ life. Life can be many things – it can be conflict, and war, and hatred, but it is also peace and joy and even death. That is why the Light Side and the Dark Side are both part of the same Force, and why neither side will ever truly triumph over the other. And, of course, it is love. Especially love. To live as a biological being is to love. We can't help it. And to deny that we have feelings at all, as many Jedi seemed to believe in the past, is painful and unnatural."

"I don't want to say we should blindly embrace all our emotions, especially the negative ones, like the Sith do. I _do_ think it depends on circumstance, and shouldn't be without control. But sometimes it would cause more pain, in the end, to allow oneself to love, and sometimes it would cause more pain to pretend that one did not love." She looked at their still-clasped hands, then up at him. "For instance, when I was a teenager, I thought I loved you, but I hid it away, and that was right, because I was not yet mature, only a girl dazzled by your charisma. It was a sweet feeling not destined to last or be stable."

And yet she thought she felt his pulse quicken. "Selyn…"

"But Atton…" Suddenly, she smiled at the thought of him. "We support each other. Even if he wasn't Force-sensitive, or if I lost my connection again, we would still be equals. No matter what happens to us, I will love him, because I can't not love him. Even if he were to disappear tomorrow and I never saw him again, I will love him, without regret, without resentment. Our relationship may be drowned in uncertainty, but my feelings are certain. I don't know what will happen in the future, whether there will come a time when I have to pretend I don't feel what I feel for him, but here and now, denying this feeling will only lead to grief and madness." Her head dropped a little. "I'm not a droid. He gives me strength to continue."

He stared at her for a long moment. "You speak passionately."

"Yes."

"I can't say I believe you, not when what you say cuts through everything we've ever taught. But I can see you believe it strongly, and maybe that will be enough to keep you from the Dark Side until the dust settles. I also need time to consider what you have said, to give you a proper answer, a thought-out debate. You've accomplished so much, and it would be a disservice to you to do otherwise."

"Thank you, Kavar. It's… good to talk to someone who understands." She squeezed his hand back. He did understand, in some ways, better than her new friends. He'd known her from _before_ , since she was a child. Maybe he didn't approve of her current path, her current thoughts, but he would at least listen to her now. And maybe, once they defeated the Sith, he and she could come to some kind of compromise. Was that too much to hope for? Kavar was compassionate enough to do that for her, right?

He hesitated, then nodded. He seemed to want to say or do something more, but instead he placed her hand on her other hand, rose, and left the room.

.

On the second day out of Onderon, someone entered the cockpit, and they weren't exiting hyperspace, and it wasn't Selyn. What was the galaxy coming to?

It was her ex-boyfriend not-teacher, Kavar. Joy. "What?"

"You are Atton Rand, I believe?"

"Yeah?"

It was funny to watch the Jedi Master fumble for opening lines. And probably a bit mean, as well. Well, it wasn't like Atton owed him any favours. He'd been one of the ones who kicked Selyn out instead of listening to her.

Kavar finally sighed and sat himself in the co-pilot's chair without being invited. "Your feelings for her are strong."

"Not that it's any of your business," Atton snapped, prickliness at max.

Kavar turned irritatingly serene eyes on him. Frak, it was like having two Micals on board – except one of them was very, very scary. He counted the ticks in the power couplings carefully. Wouldn't do to miss a single one. "Perhaps it is my business, when you are also her student and she is attempting to train you in the Light Side of the Force. When the fate of the galaxy could rest on her shoulders. When she's an old friend and I don't want to see her fall or get hurt."

Atton took a deep breath. "Do you realize just how much of a hypocrite you sound like right now?"

Kavar grimaced. "A bit. It's true I haven't been able to be there for her since before the Mandalorian Wars. But I am sincere in my intentions, and I hope to follow through with useful actions. I do think of her as a good friend, and we still know each other well."

He glared over at the co-pilot's seat, carefully. "Well y'know, maybe she's thought this through more than you seem to think she has."

"Perhaps. She's told me about it. But that doesn't mean she's right." Kavar stared out into hyperspace. "And yet she is so convincing when she believes she's right."

"Ever think she might actually be right? About Malachor, about me, about anything?"

Kavar hesitated, but then his own shields went up. "That's not for me to say-"

But Atton interrupted, pouncing. "Why not? You have your own opinions, right? You just don't trust me. You don't want to admit that you were wrong to the apprentice of your ex."

"She's- she's not my-" Okay, that was also amusing. Even more amusing than seeing Selyn blush, even if it wasn't nearly as cute.

"Oh yeah? Then how come she came back from Onderon the first time thinking about you so wistfully? Frak, I don't even like reading minds and I knew she was thinking about you, and more than just an 'old friend'. And I know you felt something for her too, so don't get all high and mighty on me."

"I didn't act on it. It was against the Code, and there are reasons why the Code forbids Jedi from holding strong affections for each other. It would have brought only grief to us and those around us, something I'm trying to spare both of you from. Even she knew that then. Even if I had known of her feelings for me then – which I did not, and I don't think she knew of mine – it would have been a selfish mistake to indulge in them. Besides, resisting temptation leads to greater mental fortitude."

"Does it? Does it actually?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes." But Kavar didn't sound quite as sure as he had.

Atton sat up with a jerk. "All right now. Look. …" And now he had to get his thoughts in order. While counting ticks. If Kavar was telling the truth, and not being a jealous git – which was probably the case, he was such a _good Jedi_ – he deserved a proper answer. "You Jedi all seem to think that love automatically leads to falling to the Dark Side. And yeah, people change, love can be betrayed or abandoned or any number of things… but it doesn't have to be that way. Else why would _anyone_ bother falling in love and getting married?" He closed his eyes. His own parents… even with everything that had happened to their family, they were still together, as far as he knew, still supporting each other. "Or just being in a family? Having friends?" Would his parents still love him, if they knew he was still alive after running away all those years ago? If they knew everything he had done? If they knew what he was doing now?

"That's not a bad point," Kavar said softly, "but for a Jedi it's different. No one can avoid being connected to others, it's true, especially if one is sensitive to the Force, but that's why it's just even more important to maintain control over our feelings. We have so much power, for starters, and we need to be open to all of the galaxy, not just focus on the life of one particular being. We can't risk the strong negative emotions that do come with betrayal or abandonment, and that's not even mentioning the call of the Dark Side that each of us must constantly struggle with."

"Then why haven't you decreed yet that the Republic Chancellor isn't allowed to be married? Or the Grand Admiral? They've got power, even if it's not Force power."

"No, that's different."

 _Did all Jedi think they were special snowflakes just because they could feel the energy field generated by all living things that surrounded them and bound the galaxy together?_ "You're just taking the easy way out, by teaching complete abstinence. Don't you know how well that works with sex ed in schools?" It'd been that way at his highschool on Alderaan. Every year had shown evidence of its inadequacy. "You're not teaching them to think for themselves. She doesn't do that. She knows she's still human."

"I think you're setting up a bit of a straw-man here. We're not quite that simplistic. But to be a Jedi, you must be more than human. Or Twi'lek, or Wookiee, or Rodian."

Atton laughed bitterly. "Talk to the HK droid if you want to know how well that works out. And is that your excuse for handing her the fate of the galaxy? That she has to be more than human? A Jedi's life is sacrifice or whatever, but you're going to ask her to risk her life and mental-wellbeing to fight the Sith and then also deny her any sort of emotional back-up? You're sick."

"Being preferential to you could cause her to make mistakes, mistakes which the galaxy cannot afford," Kavar replied, beginning to sound irritated finally.

"Yeah, well, telling her to wall everyone off – to care, but not too much – could lead to her making mistakes too, because that's going to hurt her as badly as any betrayal. She'd be betraying herself. And you know that, if you know her."

Kavar sighed again. "I'm afraid you're right on that. She said as much, already."

"I guess what it comes down to is, do you trust her enough to deal with the Sith no matter what's going on in her private life?" There was the magic word, _trust_. He didn't trust Kavar. Kavar didn't trust him. But he trusted Selyn, and he thought Kavar thought he did too.

"I don't know. It might be that letting this situation go without monitoring could lead to greater tragedy later." _Like what, one of us falling to the Dark Side? So you_ don't _trust her, then_.

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you. …But I think I have underestimated you."

"I'm not even going to rip you a new one on that 'old friend' business." Atton glanced over at the Jedi. "Hey, don't feel bad. Most people underestimate me. I like it that way. Then they leave me alone."

"To… count ticks in the power couplings."

Not even ten minutes and Kavar had tried to invade his mind. "Yep. Stay out of my head and I'll stay out of yours."

"Fair enough." Kavar was silent for a while, then rose. "Well, may the Force be with you, wherever your future leads you. I hope for your sake it happens as you hope."

"…Thanks."


	12. Part 12: Time Rolling Backward

Author's note: This chapter's subtitle is unofficially "curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!" lol. Also if Kreia kills all life in the Force, I'm sure the ysalamiri will be just fine. :P

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Part 12: Time Rolling Backward

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Kavar had said he would need some time to discuss matters with Vrook and Zez without her, so it was a few hours before she and Kreia made their way to the Jedi Enclave in his wake.

Vrook had been busy, or persuasive – the upper levels were showing signs of repair, and they could now enter. As they stepped into the first courtyard, the one with the garden, Kreia slowed, then stopped.

The place was covered in green; not the overwhelming green of Dxun, but a delicate pale green, that had crept slowly but surely over all of the interior. The fountains were still, and the ponds were full of weeds. The great tree in the centre was a blasted stump, but more trees had sprouted beside it, and were already quite tall, for only being a few years old. A few flutter-bys and fighter-flies meandered through the wide space, and she could hear the distant cooing of a Faahurdove.

"Kreia?"

"It… is different. It has been some time." Slowly, Kreia made her way to a vine-draped bench by the great tree's stump, and sat with a sigh, the sun shining on her hand resting loosely in her lap. "Forgive me, but I need to rest. Go on… the Council awaits you."

"Are you all right?" Selyn asked anxiously, although truth be told, she wouldn't have minded sitting beside Kreia and just basking in the gentle Dantooine sun, closing her eyes and letting the scent of warm moss fill her nose.

"Yes, I only need to centre myself. Go on. Whatever answers the Council have are for your ears alone."

Selyn nodded and walked away, but she still heard Kreia's voice in her mind: " _Know that much may happen here, but above all, do not forget this: you may trust in me. We cradle each other's lives, and what threatens one of us, threatens us both._ " Selyn paused, half-turning – did Kreia know something she didn't? But the bowed, hooded head revealed nothing. " _And if you find you cannot trust me, trust in your training. Trust in yourself. Never doubt what you have done. All your decisions have brought you to this point._ "

She nodded and walked into the dark hallway through to the Council chamber.

.

"Thank you for coming," Kavar greeted her as she entered into daylight again. He, Zez, and Vrook were gathered at one side of the circular courtyard and she approached them, dressed in Jedi robes. Their formation with her was not quite that of a circle, and not quite that of Masters and Knight, somewhere in between; there was still distance of rank between them, but not as much as there had been in the past. This wasn't really the time for formalities.

"This moment has taken some time to reach us, and I imagine you still have many questions," Zez said.

"Unless you are only here for revenge," Vrook grumbled. She was wearing her armour. She couldn't really blame him for misunderstanding.

"No, I'm here as I said at the beginning," she said. "Have you come up with a plan to stop the Sith?"

"No," Vrook said. "We will do as we have done. We will wait. There is nothing else we can do."

She started in surprise, took a step back. "What!? But- the Sith are attacking the Republic! I've fought them!" Her serenity was already shaken. Not good. She had to stay calm. She was a Knight, even if nominally exiled.

Vrook shook his head. "No, the true threat has yet to show itself. It is waiting for something – perhaps for us to enter the war. We have seen their soldiers, the remnants of their fleet, but those are symptoms of a disease. It is more bait to attempt to draw us out."

Kavar nodded too. "The actual battle is being fought through the Force, not with weapons or armies. It isn't about the Republic anymore. The attack on Onderon… something was attempting to use the planet itself, to feed on it, to draw on the power there. You prevented it, but it was a stalling measure. The next time will be critical."

"But if we do nothing, the next Onderon will fall! I may not have Revan's tactical mastery, but waiting for an opportune time can only last so long." She swept an arm around at all of them. "We have gathered all the forces we can, there is no point in waiting longer that I can see."

"If Jedi gather, if we wage war against these… shadows now, then Jedi will die, and we will die for nothing!" Vrook thundered. "Whatever this thing is, it must be fought by those strong in the Force – it cannot be fought in any other way. It knows this, and that is why it is assassinating us. If we die, then it will win, no matter what fleet or weapons are brought against it."

"You say if we fight, we will be destroyed, but if we do nothing, then we are even more certain to be destroyed," she argued. "If the Sith are certain to destroy us either way, I want to fight them to the end. They cannot do as they please unchecked. Otherwise, they have certainly already won."

"You don't know what we felt," Kavar said. "When we felt Katarr die, there was something, something we'd felt once before. An echo in the Force. We'd felt it before when you stood before us. Whatever this threat, whatever this hunger is, it is something tied to you, something you have experienced directly."

"This echo travels in the places where death has walked, where planets have died. Massacres fuel its power, the death of life fuels it," Zez said.

"So it is me?" she asked softly, unbelieving. Kavar had said it was not, and she knew it was not, she had never been to Katarr, had never tried to kill Jedi…

"No, it is not," Kavar reassured her. "As I said before, it is not you. But it is connected to you somehow. I felt it on Dxun."

"And it echoes in the souls of Nar Shaddaa," Zez said.

"It is in the ground here on Dantooine," Vrook said. "We must wait a little longer, until its source truly appears."

So they still didn't know _what_ it was. If Atton were here, he would say something appropriately sarcastic, make her smile. But he was not, so she had to stifle the feeling of frustrated anxiety that sprouted within her, take some calming breaths. Dantooine was calming, even with the wounds Vrook felt in it. It was healing, slowly.

"Why did you cast me out of the Order?" she asked. "I thought I knew, I thought I figured it out, but I am wrong in my thoughts, it seems."

"We cast you out of the Order because you followed Revan to war. There was no other reason," Vrook grunted with a set to his jaw.

"No, there was another," Zez soothed them both. "You had become different somehow, changed. The war had changed you."

"The war changed everyone," she said. "But I had no choice. Kavar, you said much harm was done when so many lives were lost on both sides. But if I had not fought, if I hadn't tried with all my will to save as many as could be saved, how many more would have died? How much more suffering would there be in the galaxy right now? Even though I killed thousands, hundreds of thousands… even though I sold my soul to war and became a monster, I saved many more. And… and that was how it was with Revan too." It wasn't really an epiphany anymore. But she believed it more easily now. "The Sith may have risen at Malachor, but the Jedi did not die there."

"The Jedi may not have died at Malachor, but Malachor was the beginning of our end, an end which is now upon us," Vrook said. "That is the problem, not that you saved the Republic, but that you doomed the Jedi. The end does not justify the means, and the consequences are worse."

"What would you have done, when the Mandalorians came to Coruscant? Would you have retreated before them? You'd save your honour, your virtue, but what would you say to the billions dead whom you _could_ have saved? Would those echoes not have haunted us all more deeply? Is life worth living with that sole justification?" She tried not to sound accusing, but she'd been wanting to say it for ten years.

"It must be," Zez said. "If every Jedi had gone to war, every Jedi would have fallen, and then the lives of all would have been in danger."

"As you said, the Light can never truly be defeated," Kavar said. "If even one Jedi stands firm somewhere, the Light will live on."

He hadn't understood what she meant when she said that, but Zez interrupted."Besides, such what-ifs are irrelevant."

"I agree," she said, refinding her centre, her serenity. She'd said what she wanted to say, and if they wanted to talk about it later, they could. There were more important things to deal with than the past, now. "Which is why we need to come up with a plan to stop the Sith."

"Please listen to the rest of what we have to say," Kavar said, gentle but troubled. "You were no longer a Jedi. But we could not tell you why – some explanations mean nothing unless the one who suffers comes to the answer on their own. What had happened to you was punishment enough… and the Jedi do not kill their prisoners."

"And if you had stayed, you would have changed us," Zez said. "And that we could not allow."

He'd said on Nar Shaddaa that seeing her Forceless state had frightened him. It seemed he was afraid of more than that. But… "I don't understand," Selyn said.

"You already know the answer," Vrook said. "You've noticed it in those who travel with you."

"Have you noticed that when you act, others follow?" Zez said. "Those that travel with you… they follow you, without question, without hesitation."

"Against their instincts, and sometimes against their sense," Vrook said.

"It is because you are a leader… but that still fails to grasp the meaning of what I am getting at," Kavar said, frowning in concentration.

"The General is a part of my past, but she is not who I am," Selyn objected.

"Perhaps," Vrook said. "But it is not that to which I am referring. Surely you are familiar with Force bonds. It is the bond that develops between apprentice and Master, when one truly understands another. It is developed over time, through understanding of each other. Yet you do it so easily, and we do not know why."

"You make connections through the Force, and it resonates with those who travel with you," Kavar said. "The resonance is even greater when they, too, are Force Sensitive."

"Your actions affect others more than you know," Zez said. "You draw others to you, especially those strong in the Force."

"This bond – it travels both ways. When you suffer, their spirit echoes it," Kavar said. "And when they are in pain, their pain becomes yours. When you feel pain, or strong emotion, it resonates within you. "

"And that is why the Mandalorian Wars echo within you still," Zez said.

"We did not cut you off from the Force," Vrook said. "You were merely deafened to it, because of that last battle of the Mandalorian Wars."

"The screams of countless thousands, Jedi, Republic, and Mandalorians, crushed by the planet's gravity, annihilated," Zez said.

"Their lives still scream across the surface of that dead planet – and within you," Kavar said. "To hear the Force over such pain… it is not possible. It was too much for any Jedi to endure… and it is a wonder that you did not die there when thousands perished, all those you had fought with and struggled with. You cut yourself off, because you had to if you were to survive. It began within you on Dxun. Malachor was simply the final blow."

The three of them fell silent and watched her, and she stared back at them. She could feel the unrest in her spirit, feel her heart pounding in her chest, but it was not for the reasons they thought it was.

She began to laugh, bitterly, almost sobbing. The Masters drew back, startled, as her laugh echoed sharply around the Council chamber and up to the sky. "This was your big revelation? That my connection to the Force died with Malachor, that if it had not, I would have died? I came to that conclusion a long time ago."

Atton's words came to her, also from a long time ago: " _You know why? Because Jedi lie. And they manipulate. And every act of 'charity' and 'kindess' they do, you can drag it out squirming into the light to see what it really is. The Jedi are pacifists… except in times of war. They're teachers… except when it comes to telling their students the truth_."

They looked at her, Vrook affronted, Zez chagrined. Kavar was trying to hide his feelings, but she could see his unhappiness. He believed these things he told her, but he didn't like telling her them. Even though that was cold comfort.

"No," Vrook said, sternly, but he was trying to be gentle too. What was the point? "There is more. When you returned to us, we saw what had happened. You carry all those deaths at Malachor within you, and it has left a hole, a hunger that cannot be filled."

"In you, we saw a… wound in the Force," Kavar said softly.

"In you, we saw the end of the Force," Zez corrected him.

"That was then. I feel it now," she said.

"Yes, you can feel the Force," Vrook said, "but you cannot feel yourself. You are a cipher, forming bonds, leeching the life of others, siphoning their will and dominating them. It is the teaching of these new Sith, to feed on others, on other Force Sensitives. They are symptomatic of the wound in the Force. You are a breach that must be closed. You transmit your pain, your suffering through the Force. Within you, we see something worse than merely the teachings of the Sith. You cling to the Light with your garbled reasonings and philosophies, you may not feel Sith, but what you carry may mean the death of the Force… and the death of the Jedi."

"No… No! I feel it, and my students feel it, and they have grown strong!"

"So you think," Vrook said. "It is not the strength of a Jedi you feel. It is _their_ strength."

"He's right," Zez said. "It's… all the death you've caused to get here. You feed on it, and you grow stronger. You are like Malachor… it's in you, it's what you are now. You must have noticed as you've fought across all these planets, killing hundreds, only to become more and more powerful. Why do you think that was?"

"Because I was coming to accept myself as I was, to accept the Force into my life again, to challenge the pain of my past…"

"What's worse," Kavar said softly, "is that bonding you have – it hasn't gone away. It's gotten stronger, and the more attachments you form, the more you draw others to you."

He'd been so supportive and understanding when they'd talked in the dim light of the comm room, but now, his sense was withdrawn from her, shielded. So he'd felt this – the beginnings of a bond, and pulled away? He had said he wasn't afraid of her now. He had lied. Even Kavar had lied to her. She looked at him, the first threads of heartbroken betrayal beginning to weave into her spirit. He glanced away.

"And that is why you are a threat to us all," Vrook said gravely. "You are a conduit through which the Sith learned to prey on Force users. Through you, their hunger comes, and their power against the Jedi. But it is of no consequence. Your ability to make such connections, such bonds, so easily are why you cannot remain."

Her eyes opened wide. They couldn't mean-

"You are a threat to all living creatures, and all who feel the Force," Zez said. "You will lead the Sith here. And that we cannot allow."

"Our judgement before remains, Selyn Tekeri. You must leave this place… and you must leave without your tie to the Force."

"No! I- I can help! If you're wrong, I won't- I can't-" She knew she sounded as guilty, or as insane, as they thought she was, but she was desperate. Their resolve was fixed and there was no way out for her, not without irreparable damage to everything she had worked and fought and suffered so much for. _I fought so hard to save you, I won't hurt you now, but you will break me_ …

" _Never doubt what you have done. All your decisions have brought you to this point._ " She remember what Kreia had said. If she was cut off from the Force again, she would not be completely helpless. She would still be herself; the Force was only a part of her being. But right now, right here, she could do so much more when she had the Force.

"-I have to continue!"

Vrook raised his hand. "It is a punishment reserved for only a few – and then only when necessary, but we have the power to cut you off from the Force, from your Force bonds, and it must be done."

Would it kill her this time? Would it kill Kreia? Would it hurt her friends?

"No! Please! Wait! K-Kavar-! Please-!" Tears trickled from her horror-stricken eyes. This couldn't be happening. After everything…

"Forgive me," Kavar said, shaky but visibly steeling himself. "Forgive us. It must be done."

"Kavar!" Her voice broke. She could no longer move, held in a powerful Force stasis. She stared at him, and he turned away, unable to meet her gaze.

Vrook and Zez raised their hands, and Kavar reluctantly followed them, when a thundering shout echoed around the chamber. "Enough!"

Kreia… Kreia had come to save her.

The stasis fell from her, but she fell to the grassy ground on her face, everything going dark. Embedded in her heart like shrapnel was the realization that the Masters weren't wrong, and she could feel nothing… nothing but the silent scream…

.

Muffled words over her head. She couldn't hear properly, couldn't see, couldn't feel, neither with her skin nor with her mind. But she could hear the words.

"Step away from her! I said step away! She has brought truth, and you condemn it? The arrogance! You will not harm her. You will not harm her ever again."

"I thought you had died in the Mandalorian Wars…"

"Died? No. Become stronger, yes."

"Is this your new Master, Selyn? If so, then you follow Revan's path. Her teachings will cause you to fall as surely as she did."

"We sought to lure the Sith out… and now they have come to us."

"As you would pass judgement on her, I have come to pass judgement on you all. Do you wish to feel the teachings of the Mandalorian Wars? Of all wars, of all tragedies that scream across the galaxy? Did you not hear its call on Dantooine, Vrook, on its scarred surface and in the minds of the settlers? I have endured your corruption of my other students – you shall _not_ have this one. And Zez-Kai Ell, to hide upon Nar Shaddaa, yet blind yourself to all that happens there. So close to understanding the Force… so close to giving it up. And you, Kavar, so close to the call of Dxun – tell me you did not feel what poured from the moon, what had taken place there. Let me show you – you, who have forever seen the galaxy through the Force. See it through the eyes of the Exile."

If she could have, she would have gotten up, ready to fight. Something terrible was going to happen…

There should have been a louder sound. There was almost nothing, only a faint sigh and heavy things falling on soft grass.

"How could you ever hope to know the threat you face, when you have never walked in the dark places of the galaxy, or faced war and death on such a scale? If you had traveled far enough, rather than waiting for the echo to reach you, perhaps you would have seen it for what it was. There is a place in the galaxy where the dark side of the Force runs strong. It is something of the Sith, but it was fueled by war. It corrupts all that walks on its surface, drowns them in the power of the dark side – it corrupts all life. And it feeds on death. Revan knew the power of such places… and the power in making them. They can be used to break the will of others… of Jedi, promising them power, and turning them to the Dark Side. Did you never wonder how Revan corrupted so many of the Jedi, so much of the Republic, so quickly? The Mandalorian Wars were a series of massacres that masked another war, a war of conversion. Culminating in a final atrocity that no Jedi could walk away from… save one. And that is what I sought to understand. How one could turn away from such power, give up the Force… and still live. But I see what happened now."

The final whisper, just before she lost consciousness again, was almost in her ear. "It is because you were afraid."

.

He was counting cards, not just to keep the Jedi Masters over in the Enclave, or his companions, out of his head, but because he was bored, terribly bored, sitting on the edge of an old crater just outside the Enclave. It was a beautiful day, but that honestly meant very little to him – only that it wasn't as depressing as Korriban. It was so quiet here. On other planets, like Nar Shaddaa, quiet meant that shit was about to go down. But here, it was quiet because there wasn't anything around to potentially go down in the first place. Only a few mostly-harmless critters and a slowly collapsing building, in the middle of wide plains where the wind hissed through the grass.

The others were around, no one too close to each other, also waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

It was taking too long. How long were Jedi councils supposed to be? Kreia had gone in with her, right? Was she also still in there?

Making sure none of the others noticed, he slipped in through the door, reaching out ahead of him to find where the Jedi all were.

And found nothing.

Not even Kreia's usual subtle whisper in the Force, which was almost impossible to detect unless he was really looking for it, but Selyn should have been a bright star, and even the other Masters should have had some kind of glowy effect. There was nothing. Something was horribly wrong.

He jogged through the crumbling courtyards, unwilling to call out, only moving faster and faster, his heart pounding in fear. At the end of a twisty passage, another courtyard – there! Blue armour, crumpled face-down on the ground. Brown robes lying behind her. But she was all he cared about, and he skidded to a stop on his knees in the grass, breathing hard, reaching out to her gently, rolling her over.

What had happened – what had they _done_ to her? She was still alive, still breathing, but there wasn't a hint of Force about her. Nothing. Nada. Like she was dead, she felt dead, she couldn't be dead, she was breathing- "Selyn. Selyn? Selyn!" Please wake up please wake up-

She took a deeper breath, then opened her eyes. Tear-stained eyes in a white face. What _had_ they done to her!? "A-Atton?" Her eyes were wide and lost and afraid, nothing like her normal self-control. She was trying to sit up and he hitched her higher so her head leaned against his shoulder, wrapping his arms around her in an effort to be comforting. Now that he was a little less afraid for her, he felt anger rising, anger at the Jedi who'd obviously hurt her so deeply. _No. Anger is bad. Breathe_.

"What did they do to you?"

She said nothing, only breathed, carefully, trying to conquer her feelings. He gently reached out to touch the desolate, agonized emptiness in the Force where her bright spirit had once been, and was surprised and gratified to feel a spark kindle there.

And suddenly she pushed him away, so hard that he fell head over heels, and when he righted himself again, she was at least a metre farther away than she had been. "What!? What's wrong?"

"D-don't," she stammered, hugging herself. She was crying again. "Don't touch me. Not in the Force, not at all."

"B-but-"

"Listen. You said I was bright in the Force. It's because… It's because I steal it from you – from all of you, through the bonds I form so easily. That's why you follow me, because I manipulate everyone into following me, I coerce them unconsciously, because my dead spirit wants their power." Her head fell, her hair falling loose from her clips messily. "What Malachor did to me… it turned me into this. I am not a Jedi. I am nothing. And if you follow me, you will die because of me." The end of her words was almost lost in heartbroken sobs, and it almost broke _his_ heart, too.

Not heeding her words, he scooted over until he could put his arms around her again and pull her close against his chest. "No. No, sweetheart. They're wrong. _That's_ what they told you? Those _lying_ schutta, lying out their asses. Even if they weren't lying schutta, you're not forcing anyone to do anything. You know why we follow you? Because-" The words almost stuck in his throat. It had been a long time since he'd had to say anything this intimate. "Because we love you. Because I love you. I mean, I follow you because I love you, and I'm pretty sure the others do too. We want to. We choose to." He felt another flash of anger against those vaunted, revered Jedi Masters. "If those cowardly morons had bothered to follow you, instead of _hiding_ like the 'great leaders' they are, they'd have understood, too. I'm no wise Jedi, but I know it, Selyn. It's true."

"But I still absorb the Force from you-"

"Not that I've noticed. Yeah, you feel a little weird right now, but when you were shining, I felt just as strong as now. I don't feel any different. You're not taking anything from us – at least, anything that matters. You're not like Visas's master, the one who eats planets in the Force. You're… a mirror, or something, you reflect our strength." He stroked her face with a finger, trying to get her to look up at him, to believe him. "And you can shine again. C'mon. It's all right."

He wished desperately that he was better with words. There were a million different things he could have said that would be more convincing, but he didn't know any of them right now, only that she wasn't… herself while she was hollow and empty. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, and did the scariest thing he had probably ever done. He reached out with the Force again, carefully dropping his barriers, making himself completely vulnerable, and this time she didn't push him away. Instead, she accepted the energy he offered, as delicately as if it were made of cobweb, weaving it back into her emptiness until it was no longer empty.

And then it seemed her connections kicked in, or something, because her spirit brightened exponentially until she was blazing, blinding, dazzling in his arms. Her face was still streaked with tears, her hair sticking every which way, but her face had colour in it again, her heart was beating, her eyes were sparkling, and he needed to kiss her again. And again, holding her tightly, pressing her against him, until all that he could sense was her warmth against him, her mouth wet and willing against his, her hands on his back, the rapidity of her breathing, and most of all the brilliance of her radiance, flooding his mind's senses.

If she hadn't been exactly who she was, and if the situation wasn't so weird, he would have definitely suggested getting horizontal in the immediate future. Or whatever position she liked. But she was, and it was, and he loved her too much to ruin it with that. So for now he only clung to her and she to him. He caught a word from her mind, 'resonance', and agreed with it whole-heartedly. But instead of the pain he knew she carried somewhere deep inside, the wound he'd just seen laid bare, all that resonated between them were their feelings for each other, his love reflecting her love reflecting his love, and it was gloriously overwhelming, too much to bear, too sweet to hold.

He let her go, and they were both gasping for air. "You believe me yet?" he asked, hoarsely.

She nodded and stumbled back a little from him, overwhelmed by… everything, probably. She turned a little, and her gaze fell on the three Jedi Masters, sprawled limp on the ground.

Oh, fantastic. They'd been making out in front of corpses. If that wasn't inappropriate, and unromantic, and kind of gross, he didn't know what was. And the mood was instantly dead, and he was feeling pretty chagrined they'd had such an amazing moment in such an awful place. What the hell had happened here again, anyway?

"Oh, Kavar," she said, her voice moving towards breaking again, and he stepped towards her quickly, in case she needed him. "Kreia… I think Kreia cut them off from the Force, to show them what it was like to be me after Malachor. And they couldn't take it. Their worst fears came true. Oh, I am so sorry…" She bent and closed their eyes, one after another, and the tears were flowing again.

If she kept this up, she was going to make him cry too, and he didn't even _like_ those Jedi. "So they called you in, told you a whole lot of bullshit, tried to cut you off from the Force, and then Kreia came running in to put them in their place, as she does, and… then what?"

"I don't know," she said. "I was unconscious at that point."

"Wonderful. Let's get back to the others, maybe they know-"

Footsteps interrupted him, and they turned to see Visas hurrying towards them. "Kreia's been taken by Atris's handmaidens!"

"Ohhh, frak." He could see where that hyperspace route went. "Atris will think she's a Sith, and she'll do what she does to anyone she thinks is a Sith…" _How'd they know where they were? How did they know to take Kreia?_

"But our bond… if Kriea dies…"

He gave her an unhappy look. "Yeah. I know."

"Then we need to follow them to Telos, as quickly as we can," Selyn said, moving purposefully towards Visas. For a moment, she paused, looking back towards the dead Masters. "I'm sorry, Kavar. I don't have time to bury you. But I will keep fighting. I'll defeat the Sith, without becoming one. You'll see."

He took her hand, urging her on, and they ran together towards the exit.

.

The empty Jedi Academy at Telos's pole was as stark and cold as it had always been. Five of the handmaidens had challenged her, and she had knocked them back with the Force, almost effortlessly incapacitating them.

She didn't want to kill them. Atris might be falling, but there was still a chance for them. Maybe there was even a chance for Atris.

All she knew was that Kreia wasn't dead yet. She was still alive, and that meant Kreia was still alive. Somewhere.

But apparently, not here.

And her inner state was a distraction, as she relearned it for the fourth time in her life, though she was coming to accept it and move through it yet again. She could feel her hollowness, that her core was devoid of the Force, a window into hellish nothing. But she could also feel the Force surrounding her, encasing her in power, power borrowed from her friends, but given to her willingly and taken gratefully. But it was no wonder she hadn't felt it before, nor any wonder her students hadn't seen it. Kreia had surely seen it, the other Masters had seen it. Was this finally her true self?

Whatever it was, she would not abandon her friends even though she drew on them. Perhaps this was the most important lesson they had for her, to trust them enough to let them support her like this.

She entered Atris's inner sanctum and stopped short.

It was a circular chamber like an amphitheater, but instead of seats, there were dozens on dozens of holocrons – all glowing red, all emitting a low, menacing hiss. Atris stood in the centre of the dark room, a single light falling on her white hair and robes dramatically. "She said you would come here, to this place. If you think you can defeat me here, you are wrong. All this collected knowledge, all these teachings of combat and the Force – they are mine to command. And if I must use it to end you, I will. Surrender… you need not die."

"Atris, I don't want to fight you. You've fallen, but you cannot beat me. Please don't fight." _The others are already dead. You are truly the only one left. Don't follow them_.

"Atris…" The woman's voice became dreamy, contemplative. "That is not who I am, not any longer. She has not existed for some time, I think. There was always something else within me – it just took time for its voice to be heard."

"What happened?" But she had her suspicions.

"The old woman you traveled with, finally made me… listen to myself, to the galaxy. She said that you would come here, and that you would face me in battle."

"That doesn't mean we have to."

"She said you were the last obstacle to my enlightenment. If I wished to truly face the Sith, to see their heart, then that meant facing you, this last time. She has set many things in motion, it is she that ordered the extermination of all Jedi, so long ago. She will answer for her crimes, in time. She is Sith… just as you are, just as all who followed Revan were."

Atris hadn't fallen; she was lost, lost in her own mind.

"I am not Sith, but we need to work together to stop them. The other Masters are dead. We are all that's left to fight the Sith. Work with me, Atris."

Atris swayed once, subtly, as if she wasn't aware of it. "Yes, the Sith are here at last – you have brought them to this place, as I had foreseen. It has all been part of my plans for you. And when I defeat you and the forces you have brought to Telos, I shall take the battle to the heart of the Sith, and wipe them out – forever."

"What are you talking about? What plans?" Selyn asked, suddenly alert, bracing herself for more unpleasant revelations.

Atris smiled, a gleeful smile that did not suit her. "These Sith are cowards, striking from the shadows to kill Jedi. I needed a target to draw them out – but I could not risk my own life, all that remained of the Jedi. So I arranged for you to return to the Republic, leaked information of your past, and then waited for the Sith to come. And they did. And you have come to Telos, and they have followed you, like they came to Katarr. I can finally face this enemy and defeat them." She laughed, and Selyn shivered.

"You… it was you who let the Sith know where I was? You placed everyone around me in terrible danger! And now you hide here with your Sith holocrons and speak nonsense about fighting them alone, when you have never seen true battle! Supposing you win, Atris, what happens? What then?"

Atris drew herself up proudly. "When the Sith are destroyed, then I shall rebuild the Jedi Order again. They shall have none of the weaknesses of before, they shall be strong, willing to take battle to any who oppose them and weaken the Republic. They shall not train those who are easily corrupted – no more students that will bring war and hate to the galaxy."

Selyn spread her hands. "That is exactly what they will bring, Atris! You would make the Jedi into the Sith!"

"The Sith are the Jedi, the Jedi are the Sith," Atris chanted. "What matters is that they be preserved, all the lore, all the teachings, brought to a new generation. I am the last of the Jedi… and I will show them this truth, bring it to the galaxy."

She didn't want to hear about Atris's mad future anymore. "You mentioned Katarr. What happened there?"

"It was I who leaked knowledge of its presence in the hopes of drawing the Sith out. I will not deceive you… I knew what could happen there, but it had to be done to make the Sith reveal themselves. But I did not know the extent of their power – and what that meant for the Jedi. I will not underestimate them again."

She was so proud of what she had done. "You are responsible for the murder of an entire planet."

"As are you," Atris said, suddenly cold. "You, who brought the screams of Malachor to the galaxy… do not preach to me. You lead by example. You always have. You knew what was necessary at Malachor V, and the stakes in this war are higher than you know – it is a war of extermination, of total annihilation."

"Katarr was not necessary!" Selyn took a deep breath. Insanity could not be reasoned with. There was only one more thing she wanted to know, and then she would leave. "What were the Jedi doing on Katarr?"

"They hoped to gather, to use their combined knowledge of the Force to see, to listen to the currents of the galaxy. They hoped to find out what was happening to the Jedi, why they were dying. And they discovered it. It revolved around you, as it always has. It is you who've tried to end us. From the destruction of Katarr, a vision emerged – it is the last act the Jedi were able to perform before the planet was destroyed. And look, you have come to battle me, Sith vs. Jedi, as was intended."

"I am not Sith," Selyn said coldly. She couldn't be completely calm right now… but cold was close enough. "If that was a vision of the future, it was only one possibility."

"Yes, it was one such possibility. The others were only darkness, a galaxy devoid of the Force… but always there was an echo. The Jedi on Katarr did not realize the significance of this – they had not stood in judgment of you, so long ago. They had not heard the same echo I did when you stood before us… and when we cast you into exile. That sound of life in agony – it is a wound in the Force that has yet to close. War… destruction… these events leave wounds in the galaxy, in all life. The death of one can send echoes through hundreds… even thousands, across many planets. If not checked, then it spreads, until nothing is left. Something that you had done in the past has caused this new threat, this death of all Jedi – and you were responsible for it. It was only proper that you be brought back to face your crime. You had killed countless Jedi once – the deaths of more Jedi were not beyond you."

Selyn paused, then turned to the door. It wasn't worth arguing about right now, not with Atris's mind like this. "If the Sith are gathering, I must go to fight them. Come with me. It's not too late to fight them together."

Instead, she heard the hiss-hum of a lightsaber igniting. "You dare turn your back on me, Sith?" Atris asked in a low voice.

Selyn turned to see Atris charging at her with the silver lightsaber, and flipped out of the way, her violet one springing to life in her hands.

She hadn't saved any of the others. But as long as Atris lived, maybe she could save her.

Atris had been practicing, that much was clear – she was faster, more fluid than Selyn remembered her being ten years ago. But her movements were a jumbled mess of over-executed kata fragments, mixed with instinctual, emotion-driven flailing.

Calm. She had to stay calm. The more emotional Atris got, the calmer she had to be, more controlled, more precise. If she got caught up in the other's hate and rage and despair and not-so-secret self-loathing, she would kill her, and that was exactly what she didn't want.

If she destroyed the holocrons, would their grip on Atris's mind loosen? She slipped sideways and flung her lightsaber towards the closest one; it sliced through with a _crack_ and the holocron fell in half, the cut edges glowing red.

"No! Do not touch them!" Atris shrieked. "They are irreplaceable!"

"Good!" Selyn said, going for another one. "Then no one can be poisoned by their influence again!"

But Atris screamed like she was in terrible pain, so Selyn stopped. She didn't want to break her mind further. And the other's attacks were becoming even wilder, more desperate, threatening to break past her defenses. She struck Selyn in the arm and Selyn grunted and pulled back, pulling the Force to her to dull the pain.

Selyn parried, and retreated, and parried, letting Atris wear herself out on her. Their places had somehow become reversed – Selyn was the master, patient and yielding, and Atris the wayward apprentice who was struggling to find their way. But Atris had the endurance and strength of a master, for all that she had never fought in war, and Selyn had to counsel herself to patience.

Only when Atris showed signs of wearying did Selyn move back on the attack, batter aside her defenses, and strike her in the leg. Atris cried out and fell to one knee, but still held the silver lightsaber high, bringing it around for one last, desperate strike. Selyn flicked her saber around it, nicking the hilt and sending it spinning away from Atris's grasp in two sparking pieces.

"No!" Atris screamed, reaching for it, but although it returned to her grasp, it was irreparably shattered. _Good. It will never again be an object of obsession_.

Atris wailed dejectedly over the broken hilt as Selyn lowered her own lightsaber and waited. It wasn't long until Atris let the pieces fall from her hands and gave a deep, resigned sigh, before looking up at Selyn with tragic eyes. "Kill me. End this."

"I will not kill a helpless opponent, Atris." Selyn powered off her lightsaber and offered her a hand, but Atris did not take it.

"I did not expect mercy from you… here, at the end. After all that has happened between us."

Selyn's face lightened a little. "You are yourself again. No, Atris. We have bigger problems, and there has been enough killing in the galaxy already."

"I…" Atris tried to say something, but the Sith holocrons suddenly blared out in unintelligible howling; Atris flinched and even Selyn started. "Once, I was a historian, the chronicler of the Jedi. This knowledge of the Sith… and the Jedi… this is what I am. But when both wars passed me by, I was determined that I would not forsake battle again. In some part of me… I knew I had made choices, compromises, but always for the sake of the Republic, of the galaxy. To do what you had done… at times, did not seem so wrong." Her voice was little more than a choked whisper now. "To fight such a threat… sometimes, one's choices seem narrower than they are, until it seems there is no solid foundation on which to stand. I feel… I felt that I understand what drove you to battle, to fight the Mandalorians. It was something you could not turn away from."

"You understand, but not enough," Selyn said, kneeling beside her on one ready knee. "I did what had to be done for the sake of the Republic, yes, for peace and life in the galaxy. But everything that occurred at Malachor, or in that war at all, was because there was no other choice. I did horrible things… but if I had not done them, worse would have happened. Kavar and the others believed, I think, that I was blind to the further consequences of my actions. They're not wrong, in certain ways, but they're not right, either. That was why I came back. I did only what I had to, and no more."

Atris hung her head.

"Will they tell us where the Sith are striking from?" Selyn asked, looking around at the holocrons, which blared malevolently at her.

"You always knew where they were striking from. You always knew." Atris rocked back and forth a little. She still wasn't stable. Selyn had to get her away from this room. "These Sith are spawned of you, spawned by the Mandalorian Wars… all those deaths, all those Jedi. Their power is to feed on life, until nothing is left except a hollow galaxy, echoing with the screams of the Jedi lost to us."

"Is that where Kreia has gone?"

"Yes. I had thought she was awaiting me at that place, but I see now that she lied. It was not meant for me… but for you. She has gone there. She is waiting for you to return, to finish what you started. You are an echo in the Force, a hollow space where it has been wounded. It takes a great act of destruction to create such emptiness, but it can be done. It creates places where the Force is difficult to hear, and difficult to find one's way. And you carry it with you, always."

"Do you know what she will do there?"

"She seeks to create another echo, another wound in the Force, greater than the first – greater than the one you caused. It will deafen all touched by the Force, until no life is left. You were strong enough to withstand it once – but few have your strength in such matters, especially if they are unprepared. If you choose not to follow, she will murder herself at the heart of that place, and you will die along with her. She seeks the death of all Jedi, all Sith… and the death of the Force. It is madness, it is impossible – but she believes you are the key. There are places in the galaxy dead to the Force, where nothing lives – where the echoes travel forever and do not reach their destination. And these places may be created, even from the simplest of events, the slightest of motions. One person, at the right place, at the right time, can change the face of the galaxy – or end it. You are important to her. But I…"

The holocrons snarled at her.

"…but I do not know for certain."

"…Please, tell me."

Atris was silent a moment. "She is willing to sacrifice herself at the heart of that graveyard world for you… a choice others have made in the past. A choice I wished to make. It is because I care for you." Shakily, Atris reached out and touched her hand, and Selyn took it in her own. "And I suspect that you alone hold that place in her heart, where nothing else lives. And that is why you are the only one who can stop the destruction to come."

"Atris… who is Kreia?"

Atris's silver eyes blinked up at her hopelessly. "She was a teacher once… and every student that she trained has been a failure, and brought death to the galaxy. She is one of the Lords of the Sith, one of those who murdered the Jedi, and she holds the death of the galaxy in her hands. Though she proclaims to no longer follow the Sith. That she is something else, something that seeks 'balance'… through destruction."

Kreia was neither Sith nor Jedi, and yet both; she loved her, and she used her, and now she was going to kill them both. "Because she will kill herself."

"She is waiting for you there. But you will not survive Telos. Nothing will. The greatest of her apprentices is coming to Telos. And he will destroy everything, just as he destroyed Katarr and all the Jedi gathered there."

Selyn inhaled, her fight-or-flight instinct rising. "Visas's master." She wanted to rush down to the hangar, tell Atton to put the ship in gear and enlist the Republic's aid in searching out and destroying Visas's master before he arrived at Telos. But she stayed. Atris needed her.

"What will you do with me?" Atris asked. "Abandon me here on this dead world, or end my life, as I wished to end yours?"

"No," Selyn said. "I am sorry you were hurt when I went to war. I am sorry for everything you suffered because of me. But all I want now is for you to turn away from the Sith."

"I tied my life, my decisions to the Jedi. Perhaps only in separating myself from the Jedi can I become myself again, learn who I am." Selyn nodded encouragingly. "Perhaps exile is what I deserve… even though it is many years too late, and you have already returned."

Selyn stood and reached out again to help Atris up, but the holocrons howled again, and Atris shrank back. She looked up at Selyn with helpless eyes. "Leave now, while you can. Save Telos. Save the galaxy." She rolled into a little ball on the cold floor. "Save yourself."

.

The last of Atris's handmaidens met her in the replica of the Jedi Council room, as she hurried back to the Ebon Hawk. "What have you done with her!?"

Selyn stopped, but did not raise her weapon. "She's alive. You must go to her, get her out of that room. And then shut its doors, seal it – no one must enter that room again." This handmaiden was Force-sensitive, and her eyes were bright and keen, even as they were restless with anxiety and distrust. Perhaps someday… she could be trained to be a Jedi. "Go to her. She needs much time to heal."


	13. Part 13: Malachor V

Author's notes: Chapter theme song is Levi vs. Female Titan, for the Atton-space/Selyn-Nihilus battle.

I read on the internet that Bao-Dur is supposed to die helping HK get to or from the secret droid factory on Telos? I almost considered doing that, but I decided in the end to do it the way I've imagined it for a long time. I also nabbed some Cut Content dialogue from a thing that shouldn't happen to Atton except under certain circumstances which I forget what they are but I'm pretty sure would not be completionist LSF, but it was just too dramatic to pass up. XD

.

Part 13: Malachor V

.

The Ravager lay dead ahead of Citadel Station, grinning like a jawless skull as it majestically closed to attack. Its fighter and light ship escort buzzed alongside it like carrion; a crude, obvious metaphor, but impossible to deny. The Republic fleet had just dropped out of hyperspace and was closing with them, already firing on them and taking fire in return.

It hadn't always been the Ravager. Once it had been the Regent, one of the proudest ships in the Republic fleet – and a ship that she had sent to its death on Malachor. Commander Helvotha had captained it, with Jedi Knight Yserys, when her former captain had committed suicide rather than fight the Mandalorians anymore.

And now Selyn was flying into the thick of battle on a Mandalorian shuttle, surrounded by big armoured men with Visas at her side. She couldn't see outside, but there were two more Mandalorian shuttles, flanked by Tagren in the Basilisk, and Atton in a snubfighter he'd begged off Lieutenant Grenn on Citadel Station. The others were still on the station, helping the people there as best they could, except for Bao-Dur and HK, who had disappeared. She could feel turbolaser blasts cutting through space towards them, and she was helpless. Her heart thrummed inside her. Soon they would land, hopefully, and begin working their way up to the bridge, where Darth Nihilus surely waited.

They were slowing, the landing gear was down, there were additional sounds that told her the shuttle was in atmosphere again, and a clunk as they touched down. The landing ramp was dropping and she ran out with the others. Today she didn't have to be the General. Mandalore was in charge, directing some of his men to place explosive charges against the… wall, not the door.

The wall exploded and the Mandalorians poured through, their heavy blaster rifles making short work of the remaining Sith soldiers taken off guard. Mandalore walked through the breach after them slowly, the very image of a dread conquering warlord, then beckoned her through.

He was speaking to Bralor as she walked up; Kelborn was there too, and spared her a wave. She waved back. "And our cargo?"

"It's being brought aboard, and soon teams will be dispatched to the target sites. You were right about the vessel, Mandalore. It is of Malachor… it still bears the wounds of Mandalorian guns."

"Then let's finish this. And remind the galaxy of Malachor V." He turned towards her and chuckled. "Been waiting for this for ten years. It's time to do things the old-fashioned way."

"Is that the close-combat way, or the vast quantities of explosives way?" she asked solemnly.

He laughed. "Yes."

.

He hadn't been in a real dogfight in years, and every second was praying that he hadn't lost his touch as he weaved and juked his way through waves of lasers. One good thing that Citadel Station had to offer him was an old Vorpal D-32, which was a ship he was familiar with: small, weak lasers, but fast. The rest of their small fighter squadron was staying a little closer to home, taking out any Sith fighters that ventured too close to them. The Republic fleet was hammering the Sith support ships from the other side, true, but otherwise he was a bit isolated, aside from that Mandalorian Basilisk flitting around and stealing half his kills.

Missile lock. He pulled back on the controls, drawing on the Force to thread his way through an impossibly tight space between a cruiser and a pack of other enemy Vorpals. The Sith apparently didn't believe in maintenance, as most of them looked ruined or wrecked in one way or another – dragged bodily from the husk of Malachor and fixed just enough to fly, just enough to be very dangerous to him.

Laser blasts came spraying past his cockpit canopy and he gritted his teeth, searching out those slivers of open space between ships he could nip through to discourage tailers. His finger was always on the trigger, pumping every last bit of energy he could spare from the shields and engines into space, punching through withered armour, through already-blast-scored canopies. Every enemy he took out was one less for Selyn to worry about.

He got this.

Another Vorpal shot past his view and for an instant he stopped firing. The back half was blackened and charred, but the front half was painted up to look like a horrific blue monster, shrieking defiance to the enemy.

A hit to his rear shields jolted him out of his shock. "Frakking Force-damned Sith-spit!" He went into a twisting spin, trying to track the one that had shot him, without losing the Vorpal – the one stolen from his old squadron. _That was my wingmate's ship. Togruta named Komaren, Blue 6. Okay dude, not as good as me, but still a hot hand in a Vorpal. And he got shot down, got smashed into the surface of Malachor like a bug on a speeder windshield_.

And now some Sith was flying his ship.

A Jedi was in control at all times. Yeah, he was mad, upset, he had to acknowledge that, then focus on what was really important: staying alive. He wasn't here for revenge. He was here to clear out as many enemies as possible, to make things safer for Selyn, so she could destroy the source of that awful hunger he felt from here, tugging on the edges of his senses.

Blue 6 tucked in behind him and began firing.

.

Colonel Tobin was aboard the ship, a grey-skinned shadow of his former self, consumed with hopelessness and regret. He seemed lucid enough, but Nihilus's power had touched him deeply.

"If we destroy his ship without fighting him, would he die?" she asked.

"This ship… is it his weakness?" Tobin shook his head. "It should not exist, yet it cruises the darkness between the stars. He tore it from the mass shadows of Malachor, along with his fleet… that is a measure of his power."

Mandalore grunted expressively. "Hnh. This ship is barely holding itself together. The structural damage should have destroyed it long ago."

"He holds it together," Tobin said feverishly. "And he keeps us all alive, just enough, like rotworms within a dying beast."

"Hnh. More Jedi tricks."

"No, not Jedi. Not Jedi at all." Tobin shook his head slowly.

"If he's so powerful, why hasn't he stopped us, then?" Mandalore demanded. "We've attacked his ship, killed his soldiers, and he's done nothing."

"It is because he sees planets, stars… not people. To him, the planet below, the station with its teeming life, only that is massive enough to demand his attention. There is nothing to be done except wait. If you go to him, he will destroy you… and your last moments shall be of shadow… and pain."

"We will chance it," Selyn said. "To attack him may be to doom ourselves, but to do nothing will doom Telos and Citadel Station."

She sent him to help the Mandalorians – even an unpleasant person like Tobin should have a chance for redemption, and he truly regretted what he had done in joining Nihilus – and continued on her way.

They were almost to the bridge when Visas stopped suddenly and turned aside, to a side passage. "If there is time, I would like to center myself. There is a meditation chamber within my cell that I would visit one last time."

Selyn nodded, so Visas slipped through a door to a chamber that had once been a rec room for crew members, flowing lines and decorative pillars, less functional and more aesthetically pleasing than the rest of the ship. It was dark now, and the grey metal made it darker. She sat cross-legged in the centre of the room and whispered, but Selyn could hear her.

"Past the surface, there is the Force. Where once there was a world that was strong in the Force, now there is a barren wasteland. It has taken time for me to return here. I lost my way, but I've been stronger for the journey. What happens now shall not be done out of hate, or revenge, but for the sake of all life. And I ask you, finally, to forgive me."

She stood and turned to Selyn. "This body is a prison no longer."

.

The pull in the Force was getting stronger; it was getting harder to concentrate, harder to fight. He could still see the ships around him, but Telos in the background was no longer blue and brown with a little green and a big metal shield, but three blackened chunks of rock orbiting each other closely. He was in the same ship as then, alongside the same ships… All that was missing was some Mandalorians. He knew he was hallucinating in the Force, and yet he couldn't fight it…

 _…I should have stayed in that ship, let it drift until the power ran out, let it drift in that battlefield until the storms dragged me down…_

Laser fire struck his flank, punching through his shields and snapping off a wing, and he jammed the controls hard right. If he didn't power through this supernatural interference, he was going to die a whole lot quicker than crashing on Malachor.

.

"Beyond this door is the bridge."

She knew. She'd been here before. When the lights were on and friends greeted her here. "Visas, you don't need to come with me."

Visas laid an earnest hand on her arm, her eyeless sight meeting Selyn's through her veil. "It was never a question of need. And I would follow you wherever your path leads. This thing must be done. It must come to an end."

Selyn nodded and tapped the door control, the double entrance grinding open reluctantly.

It was an image out of a slow nightmare. The viewports lay blasted open, there were no lights other than a few feebly flickering terminals in the crew pits where zombie-like crewmen stood at attention. Cables and struts had fallen from the ceiling, creating cobwebs of durasteel and rubber. The stars shone untwinkling, the battle outside the ship sparkled, but in here all was still and dark.

At the very bow, the very farthest viewport, stood a single figure cloaked in black. She almost couldn't see him against the stars. But she could feel him, a deep, mindless pull in the Force. There was a faint ringing in her ears, a chime from the Force as it flowed towards him and vanished.

She moved forward with a slow, sure stride, almost mystical in her purpose and detachment. "Yserys." Now that she could feel him, she was sure. She had known him, once. A human with a big smile, a smile that had been killed by the war before ever Malachor.

He turned – so he could still hear her. A deep, garbled rumble came from his throat beneath a white mask like a skull. She held out a hand to keep Mandalore and Visas back, and kept walking forward. "You can feel the emptiness of this planet. Kreia has lied to you." Kreia lied to everyone, but not without purpose. She knew that now. "There is nothing here for you. Turn back."

He wouldn't. He'd keep going, drain what he could, the thousands living on the station and fighting in the space battle barely enough to keep him going a while longer. Even her students, strong in the Force as they were, would not sate his hunger. But then, nothing would, if Katarr had not.

But she, cloaked in the power of her students, wreathed with Light, surely she was a tempting target. She walked closer until she was at a conversational distance. "Or if you must take a life, take mine, and spare the others."

She couldn't allow him to take the lives of her students through her. She waited, gazing sternly at the white skull-mask he wore; he raised a hand to her with a gesture of power. Wait for it, wait for it…

She tore off her veil of Light, baring her empty core, her true self, and Nihilus stumbled.

.

He felt something through the Force, a sudden weariness, and almost slammed his Vorpal into the side of the cruiser while he was distracted. "What the hell was that!?"

Blue 6 was still on his tail; whoever they'd gotten to replace his old wingmate was just as good as his old wingmate. Don't tell him it _was_ his old wingmate, zombified by the frakking Sith Lord. That was impossible.

But whatever it was that had tried to steal his Force, it was gone now, the hallucinations were gone, and he was back in control, flirting with the Ravager's turbolaser cannons, sending golden lines of explosions racing out across its surface, spinning around his opponent's attacks.

It was almost like he was losing touch with physical reality, the more he sank into the Force to help him pilot; he was melded with his ship, the two of them one unit among a vague and yet crystal clear field of life and death. Somehow, he'd looped around a smaller Sith cruiser and was now on the Vorpal's tail, lacing it with laser fire. Not for the first time, he wished the Vorpal had bigger guns. Although then it would be slower, and he didn't want that. "C'mon, you sunova-"

Another fighter moved behind him to try to distract him, but he jinked, sending its shots wide, and then the Basilisk swooped in, clearing his aft. "Thanks, Mandalorian."

"No problem, Republic."

The steady stream of lasers on the Blue 6 Vorpal finally broke through its shields and stabbed into its engines, turning it into a small red and yellow fireball. He shot through the middle of it and spun, seeking his next target.

.

Nihilus collapsed with a desperate groan, and she stood tall over him as the Force rippled in reaction to both of them, gazing at him with pity and sadness. She walked a few paces closer, quietly. "We are much alike, you and I," she said to him as he gasped and choked on the deck of his ship, mewling in agony. "We both suffered the loss of our Force bonds; we were both broken at Malachor in the same way; we both died without dying. But I cut my bonds and remained myself, a scar in the Force, a dead spot. You… you could not, and now you are a weeping wound in the Force, and everything that you were and are and consume is pulled into that vortex of death that began with the death of the Regent. But think, Yserys. Is it such a bad thing to die, to rest? Your younger self would not have wanted this slaughter that keeps you barely alive. Would it be so bad to be released from this pain?"

He crawled to his feet and ignited a lightsaber; Yserys's orange lightsaber. If he could not kill her in the Force, he would kill her physically.

Her lightsaber blazed in her hand and she took a ready stance. She had to defeat him without the Force. To risk connecting again to her students was too dangerous for them.

"I will help you!" Visas cried. "He is too strong for you to defeat alone."

It was true; she couldn't sense Nihilus's strength while she had clamped down on her connections, but the wave of Force power that picked her up and sent her flying backwards was strong enough for starters. Mandalore dropped to one knee to catch her and set her right side up again.

"Thanks," she breathed.

"Go get him, kid." She nodded and ran towards Nihilus as Mandalore turned to shoot a pair of guards trying to sneak up on them.

Visas was readying her lightsaber, preparing – to stab herself with it!? "Visas! What are you doing?"

"My life… for yours."

Selyn grabbed her arm. "No! Not that way. I did not bring you so that you could kill yourself-"

"Look out!" Visas raised her other arm, and whatever Nihilus was doing in the Force blew by them both. "Then what use am I to you?"

"Can you… use your Force-bond with him to disrupt him, weaken him somehow?"

Visas was silent a moment, then lowered her lightsaber. "I can try." She sat down cross-legged, and Selyn was left to face Nihilus alone.

He was taller than her, but he moved slowly, unused to physical combat after so long, after having relied on his terrifying Force powers to dominate others for so long. She still had to be alert: without the Force, she would have no early-warning system of danger, would not be able to mitigate any powers that affected her physically. She'd have to dance rings around him to take him down.

Time seemed to slow as she ran towards him. She might not have the Force, but she had her reflexes, and he had his tells – a flick of his fingers and she twisted sideways, avoided whatever he had tried to do to her. Their lightsabers clashed, sparks flying, and she was swinging past his guard when suddenly it was like she was trying to cut through water instead of air; the next thing she knew, she was blasted back, and and her body was on fire with pain.

She hit a broken console and could not move for a moment. The only way she had survived was because of Visas's help. If she didn't do something quickly, he would destroy his former apprentice for her betrayal, and then she would be done for as well. Gritting her teeth, she crawled to her feet and moved to attack again.

She wasn't quick enough to dodge the next attack and she hit the same console. But she got up again. She had to. Even if her body gave out, since she couldn't use the Force to sustain herself, she had to.

Nihilus stared at her through the black sockets of his mask as she came on yet again, dragging herself forward, hollow and empty and with determination blazing from her eyes. He flung his arm out towards her. She was engulfed in a wave of darkness and cold, suddenly blind to the world around her, hearing only her heartbeat and whispers in the distance.

Most of them sounded hateful or pleading or sad, but one of them sounded familiar, calm and wistful. " _Your command echoes still, General._ "

"Bao-Dur?"

" _And I obey, as I did at Malachor V._ " He couldn't hear her, it seemed. He was far away, down on Telos, his voice channeled to her through the void – and the other void – despite her deafness in the Force. " _I have destroyed planets for you, General. But now, this once, if we could save something in this galaxy… I need to do this, or I will die inside. Like I died at Malachor V._ "

"You and me both," she said softly to the darkness.

" _I know you can hear me._ " She started, inhaled abruptly. Did he mean now, or in general? " _I have always known. It is why I followed you. You know where you must go. It calls to you still. And she must be stopped, there, now, or she will bring the screams of Malachor V to the galaxy – just as we carried the echo all this way. Now, Malachor V comes to us. And I wish to face it, this last time…_ "

She didn't understand, but she felt touched. She hoped she had been meant to hear that, and that it was not just his innermost thoughts traveling to her.

She broke through the cloud of darkness and slashed Nihilus across the chest. This time, he fell without a sound. The ravenous pull fell still.

She held her posture a moment, longer, panting, and Visas rose quietly and came up behind her. "I must look upon him."

Selyn waited for her. When Visas rose again, she asked: "What did you see?"

"A man. Nothing more."

Mandalore waved them on. "Let's get out of here and turn this thing into debris!"

.

They reconvened on Citadel Station, where she met up with her team in the Ithorian compound. They were tired but exuberant, relieved that Telos had survived. Except for Bao-Dur, who was smiling, but solemnly. She went to him. "Bao-Dur… did you speak to me in that battle?"

"…Yes. I tried. I couldn't sense you; it was a shot in the dark."

For her, literally. "You called me General, again."

"Forgive me… Selyn."

"Never mind. What did you mean? Why did you speak to me?"

He smiled, his eyes drifting away from hers in embarrassment. "It was a… sticky situation. And I didn't even enter the droid factory."

"Droid factory?"

"You'll have to ask HK about it."

"You want to go with me to Malachor V?"

The gentle smile dropped from his face, but his expression remained clear and relaxed. "I do. I have my own trials to face there. I have to face what I created. It might not have scarred me like it did you, but…"

"I understand," she said. "I was planning to take everyone, certainly. I don't want to leave them behind now. You're all important to me. But, Bao-Dur…"

"What is it?"

"Whatever you have to do… Do it because you have to, not because of me."

He nodded. "I understand." A ghost of a smile drifted across his face again. "Is that your order, to not treat your will as an order?"

She smiled back. "No. You are free to decide for yourself." Her own smile faded. "I mean that. I would hope that throughout your life, you would stay on the path of the Light. But no one, Jedi or Sith, can force you to do or be anything."

"And if I choose to follow your will, because I respect you?"

"Then I won't stop you, and I won't abuse such trust in me. I hope."

He offered her a hand to shake. "Thank you, Master."

"You're welcome. Just… let me face Kreia alone. I think that's something _I_ have to do."

"I'll watch your back. Speaking of which, Mandalore's been staring out the window for a few minutes now. You should go check on him."

She smiled. Bao-Dur was healing, too. "I will."

As she left Bao-Dur and approached Mandalore, he spoke, unprompted. "Do you know what she told me, in those last days on the Outer Rim?"

"Revan?"

"Yes. She told me that the Mandalorian Wars were our doom, and that we had been deceived. That it had never been our decision to wage war on the Republic. Revan said the Mandalorians didn't invade Republic space ten years ago because it was our choice. We were tricked… our entire people sacrificed as pawns… and never knew it. She said there was a war coming. That it was waiting out in the Unknown Regions, in the dark, waiting for us to destroy each other."

Selyn stared. "A war? This war?"

He shook his head, still staring at the distant stars."No, not this one – another one. More terrible. Against an evil we couldn't begin to comprehend… a war of belief, that had been fought for thousands of years. Revan went off to fight it."

So that was where she had gone. "And left you here."

"Revan was one of the greatest military leaders in the galaxy, in history. She knew what she was doing." Finally, he turned to look at her, and the silver helmet nodded gravely. Mandalore's voice was hard as stone. "And I always follow orders." His gaze shifted past her shoulder. "Well, well, look what the kath hound dragged in."

Admiral Carth Onasi laughed as he approached them. "Canderous. I'd recognize that antagonistic growl anywhere. So you've been tagging along with General Tekeri?"

Mandalore shrugged. "Might as well. She knows where the good fights are at."

"Yes, the Republic is in your debt for destroying the Ravager." Carth made a resigned face. "It's incredibly strange to be saying that to a Mandalorian. Even you."

"It's about time we heard it, though. What's with that poncy uniform? Revan didn't leave you anything good to wear? How's the kid?"

"Hey, I just wear the uniforms, I don't design 'em. Dustil's all right. We… we're talking."

"Good, good. I bet you're dying to talk to Tekeri, so I'll leave you to it." Mandalore clapped her on the shoulder, shook Carth's hand, and walked away.

Carth shook his head as he moved to take Mandalore's place in staring out the window, though he looked towards the planet, not the stars. "He never changes. Hope he never does. We're lucky to have him leading the Mandalorians." He trailed off.

"Admiral?"

A wistful smile tugged at his bearded face. "It's a little beat up, but it's still home. I wasn't able to be here to protect it when the Sith attacked the first time. This time, you gave me a second chance. I owe you."

"My pleasure."

He finally turned to her. "Admiral Carth Onasi of the Republic Fleet. I'm sorry we've never had the opportunity to meet before, but I know of your history, and I know of you a little through Revan. If you have a minute, I have some questions for you."

"Yes, certainly. I've gathered that she was close to you, when she found her redemption. If there's any way I can help, I'd be glad to."

His expression eased. "Thank you. So, I know you were exiled ten years ago, I know you wandered beyond the Outer Rim… Did you… find any trace of her?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I knew almost nothing of what was happening in the galaxy while I was exiled… In fact, I avoided it. I'm sorry."

He nodded like he'd expected that, his shoulders rolling back to hide his disappointment. "It's… all right. It was a long shot, really. She's only one person in a big galaxy, although she leaves a long wake behind her."

"When did she leave?"

"Almost four years ago… She said that there were places where she had to walk where I could not go – places that she could not bring those she loved. …It doesn't get any easier."

"I'm sorry."

He looked back out through the viewport, another sad smile on his face. "I would have done anything she asked. And when she told me to stay here, to keep the Republic strong, that was the hardest thing of all. She said that she believed something had been behind the Mandalorian Wars. That it hadn't been the Mandalorians' choice to attack the Republic. Whatever it was, I think she went off to find it… to fight it. Maybe you know our history together… We saved the Republic. But it was like the war didn't end for her. She would keep remembering things that she had done, and it kept driving her. And she kept using it as a wall between us. And I think she finally remember something terrible she had done during the Wars. And she went to put an end to it. She left without warning… And here you return, with her ship, without her."

"The Ebon Hawk? Yes, I know. I wondered where she was, too." With the navicomputer voice-locked…

"If, in your wanderings, you find any trace of her…"

"Do you want me to tell you where she is?"

"No." He took a deep breath. "Only tell her: Carth Onasi is waiting for her."

Selyn's heart went out to him. She'd pieced together his history of loss from what Mandalore, HK, and T3 had told her. And here, he would wait – forever if necessary – for Revan. He would do as she had asked of him. But his yearning longing was a controlled tug at her senses.

She wondered if Atton would feel the same for her, if she left again.

Impulsively, she hugged the Admiral. He started at the unexpected contact.

"I haven't seen her since the Mandalorian Wars. But what I knew of her before… If she loves you, then she loves you with all her passion, and being away from you hurts her as much as it hurts you."

"I know," he said softly.

"I will tell her," she said. "She will be glad to hear it, even if it makes her sad." She let go of him. "Stay strong, Admiral Onasi."

"I will," he said, and smiled.

.

Malachor V lay ahead, green lightning erupting through its atmosphere and visible from space, a perpetual aurora of doom and gloom clinging to it. The Ebon Hawk slowly cruised closer; Selyn was trying to find where Kreia was, and Atton was trying to find a place to land nearby. "Easy, babe. It's just weird gravitational forces and stuff."

"Are you talking to the ship?" Mical asked incredulously.

"Don't tell me you've never done it," Atton tossed back, taking a tighter grip on the controls. "Selyn, you got a location yet? Because I don't know how much longer I can hold her." _Come on, baby. Fly for me_.

"By that green glow to the northeast," Selyn said, still moving as if in a trance. She didn't want to be here, he could tell. What did she hear in the Force? What did she feel? He couldn't do anything about it, anyway, except help her get it over with faster.

"All right, buckle in and hold on to something. It's going to be rough."

Rough turned out to be an understatement as the ship dove closer to the planet. Gravity was weird here, like the whole planet was a tractor beam emitter, and then they hit the roiling atmosphere and everything went to hell.

.

When he regained consciousness, the view out the window was stationary, so that was a good thing. Probably. The bad news was it looked like they were wedged in a canyon above a long drop. The only way out was going to be through the upper hull access hatch.

His neck was sore; he'd probably gotten whiplash bad. Would the Force help heal it, or at least numb the ache until they were done here? How was everyone else?

He unbuckled and stood carefully. The engines were already off, shorted out in the crash, so he didn't have to worry about that. Selyn was unconscious in the co-pilot's seat, but Mical was already bending over her, lifting her to carry her to the medbay. Fine. Mical was physically stronger than him, anyway.

Mira was stirring in the common area as they came through. "What kind of landing do you call that?"

"I call that 'hooray, we didn't explode in a fiery conflagration'," Atton replied. "What more do you- oh, _no_."

Bao-Dur hadn't fully gotten his harness on before they were caught in the stormy skies, and now he lay still in one corner of the lounge, blood on the wall and the floor beneath him. He wasn't breathing; Atton couldn't feel any trace of his mind or spirit or Force.

Atton took a deep breath, trying not to get too emotional, trying to hide how shaken he was; he still had work to do. Bao-Dur had been a good guy, even a friend. They'd gotten along pretty well. Above him, his Remote beeped anxiously. "I'm sorry, Remote. He's gone."

If he'd waited even another five seconds before beginning their descent, he wouldn't be dead. But he hadn't heard anyone protest over the intercom, so he'd thought they were ready…

Mira wiped a sleeve over her eyes and sniffed. "Right. We got a job to do. Selyn's not up yet, but the rest of us are. We have to find Kreia before she does."

"Kreia has used her since the beginning," Visas said. "I concur. She must not be allowed to have this confrontation she's planned."

"I'm the best scout, so I volunteer to go on ahead. You guys wait a bit before following me. Mandalore, you coming?"

"I'm coming," said the Mandalorian grimly. "This world is taboo to my people, but I'm not letting you kids waltz into a Sith stronghold alone. Although I might leave the fighting of the old woman to you."

"Sounds like a plan," Atton said. "Mira, let us know when you want us to follow."

As she left, he heard her grumbling: "Why can't we ever go to Alderaan or Ithor or someplace without metal and jagged rocks and packs of bloodthirsty beasts?"

.

The Sith Academy thing wasn't so hard to find, but he had to say it was a miracle it was as intact as it was, considering the state of the rest of the planet. That is, the floors were still level. It seemed deserted, too – other than a token few guards at the front gate and at the doors to the lower level, they didn't have to fight their way in, wandering the grim grey halls unchecked. And really, wandering – this place was huge. And depressing. He wasn't sure if it was the decor or the Dark Side. Both, probably.

He wasn't sure if that was suspicious or not. Hadn't they been attacked by dozens, even hundreds of Sith over the last few months? Shouldn't there have been hundreds more? Or had they all gone out into the galaxy to cause trouble? Whatever the case, it wasn't because Selyn had been through before them. As far as he knew, she was still sleeping in the medbay.

He peeked through the door to the final lair and saw Kreia, dressed in black like a proper Sith, kneeling on the floor. He couldn't feel any trace of Selyn yet, and there should have been, if she'd been there already. So Kreia was definitely still waiting for her.

Killing Kreia might kill Selyn. But if they didn't do anything, Kreia would kill Selyn all by herself, and that he – they – couldn't allow. "Yep, she's still there, waiting creepily."

Mira flexed her left arm. "I say we fire a rocket at her right now, and blow her screaming, burning body into the heart of this planet."

He shook his head. They didn't know Kreia like he did, and he had the uneasy feeling he himself barely knew Kreia. But he knew about attacking Jedi. "It wouldn't work – if there were other distractions, maybe, if she wasn't telepathic, maybe. If you want to kill her like that, you need something else to occupy her attention, otherwise you might just wound her. And then we'd all be in trouble."

"You are wrong," Mical said confidently. "Manipulation is Kreia's strength, not battle. We have a chance; we just have to figure out how to make use of it."

He glared at the brat, but he had to believe, or else this whole exercise was useless.

Using the pillars for cover – not that it mattered, Kreia was blind and saw through the Force anyway – they encircled her, then stepped out, one from each of the four directions.

"We've come a long way, Kreia… don't bother getting up," Mira said, pointing her rocket launcher at Kreia. Probably she had the best shot, with that thing. They'd all have to act as her distraction.

Kreia didn't sound the slightest bit surprised. "Ah, the huntress. To come alone… you are braver than I thought." Wanting Mira to think she had fallen for it?

"She is not alone," Mical said, stepping forward and lighting his lightsaber. "We stand with her."

Visas joined them. "And with her, stand all the Jedi."

Well, they'd taken all the good one-liners. "And now I come in, saying something suitably heroic."

Kreia tilted her head imperially. "Children with lightsabers… but not Jedi, I think. Come close, let me look upon you and see what _her_ teaching has forged. An assassin, a wasted pawn… a blinded slave… and a fool." Oh good, he still got his old nickname. "Which of you wishes to try yourselves against me? As you can see, I am unarmed."

She pointed at Mical. "You, perhaps? You are a wasted pawn of the Republic, young one. You could have been so much more, even with your wide-eyed innocence, your naive love for others. Think. Think, before you throw away your life for her. Think of everything you will lose by dying. Your lusts unfulfilled. A dance, unfinished. A love, unrequited. Think before you give it up so quickly." Mical swallowed hard and looked unhappy, but he looked determined, too. A proper hero, he was.

Kreia turned to Visas. "And you, blind one, you have hungered to strike me down ever since you saw the bond the exile and I share. Can you feel the Force running through me, even past the veil, past your bloodied eyes? You know you cannot win."

Visas said quietly: "The Force runs strong within you, Traya, but in the howling of a storm, it is difficult to hear the whisper of a blade." Traya? Who was Traya? Was that Kreia's Sith name? It was appropriate, and he hated that it was appropriate. Sith shouldn't try to be clever.

Kreia shook her head, her voice a venomous hiss. "You have forever been the blind one. You were given a gift few are ever given, and yet you let your gift of sight warp you, twist- You think your existence under your Lord was torture, Miraluka? I will make you see. And you, assassin… You were stronger than I thought – to spare the beast that wished to kill you. I felt it, faintly, even here on Malachor. Come, huntress. You have tracked me so far. Cast away your past for this moment." She turned to him. "And now… at last, the fool."

"Yes, tell me what you really think," he said, affecting boredom. "You've only been doing it since we met."

He'd thought her face couldn't get more contemptuous. He thought wrong. "You only delay the inevitable. You have been difficult to sense before… but not now. You can cloak your mind only for so long. It is only a matter of coaxing the right thought to the surface. Your desire to protect the Jedi… and the hope that she truly cares about you… She will fall before me, you know. And when I am done with her, she will view you with all the contempt I do for a murderer such as you."

"Are you done with your masterclass yet?" Mira demanded, and raised her missile launcher. Mical took a deep breath, steadying himself in the Force, and then yelled as he charged; Visas moving with him. Atton closed with the others, trying to figure out how they were going to coordinate this effectively.

It all happened so fast. One moment, they were all attacking, the next moment, Mical's yell was cut off by an invisible choking grip around his throat, lifting him a metre into the air; Visas was struck by lightning, throwing her down, and Mira's missile was pushed back towards her, detonating and knocking her out.

He was out of there. He couldn't take on Kreia single-handed. Nope.

He crouched in the shadows of the hall outside, too close to Kreia yet too far to help the others, and watched as more Sith than they'd seen so far entered and removed his companions, unconscious and bound. So they weren't going to kill them. Would they try to convert them? He had to follow, to rescue them, and then they'd meet up with Selyn when she got here and try to be… actually useful, because their pre-emptive strike had been the most useless thing he'd seen since the idiot assassin back on Telos the first time.

He crept through the long corridors in the wake of the guards, then came to a sudden halt when a grey-skinned scarred figure stepped out in front of him, red lightsaber glowing. _Frak_.

"And I get the fool," Sion rumbled disdainfully.

He tried to smirk, but it came out more of a sarcastic snarl. "Funny – that's just what I was thinking."

Steady. Hold on to the Force. He couldn't beat this guy with strength alone. But… he _could_ probably beat him. And that would be one guy less for Selyn to worry about.

"You think to protect her," Sion said. "But all that will happen is she will come and protect you. You all are a weakness to her, parasites that sap her true strength, and you in particular most of all, because she _loves_ you." He punctuated his words with vicious swings of his lightsaber, and Atton jumped back rather than block.

"Yeah, you know what? From a certain point of view, you may be right, but you're also as wrong as all the other Sith. Because she has the strength to do that. And we don't just take her strength, we give it, too. You know how hard it is to really, _really_ love someone?" He counter-attacked, finally, the finesse of his Echani training showing up just when he needed it most, and he actually managed to drive Sion back a few paces.

"I only know how painful it is. Because I love her, too."

"You sick freak." All right, he wasn't going to defeat the Sith Lord by calling him names. "But you don't understand. I might not be on her level, but I'm sure as hell not backing down from this fight. Because even if you're right, and all that's going to happen is she has to save the dude in distress, maybe you're wrong, and this is what I can offer her. She'd do no less for me." He kicked Sion in the knee, and felt it crack, saw Sion drop to his knees, but was forced back by a wild side-swing.

Sion stood, his crumpled knee mending itself before his eyes, and only then did Atton begin to be truly afraid.

 _Fear is of the Dark Side. The old Jedi Council was afraid, and that's why they're dead. I have to see this through… just like all those dumbass superhero Jedi I always admired and despised_.

He'd become the thing he'd once hated. And even though he was staring his own death in the eyes, that didn't seem like such a bad thing from here.

"In my own way, I seek to protect her, too," Sion said. "You know what Kreia will do to her once she arrives. She will break her, remake her into her intended image, and the one that we know will be no more."

" _And when I am done with her, she will view you with all the contempt I do for a murderer such as you._ " Kreia's remembered words dropped a lump of ice into his gut. _She won't be Selyn if she viewed anyone with contempt_ …

"You… you don't actually know her," he said, haltingly. There was a weight on his mind, and he was all out of quips…

"I would rather she be dead than changed, and so I will kill her first, before she can be corrupted and destroyed." _Wouldn't you rather see her dead than broken by Kreia's tender mercies?_

"No," Atton said, but it was a struggle to say it, and he didn't know if he believed himself. _Wouldn't she give her life to save her soul?_

Sion's lightsaber impaled his chest, his left lung, and he choked and fell to the cold grey floor, coughing blood.

.

She'd run all the way from the Ebon Hawk, through the jagged black-and-green landscape, following the trail of her friends and Kreia's sense, but still she hadn't caught up to them. She'd never been on the ground here, and it was not like what she had expected, but there were spectres enough of the past littering the ground even without the constant howl in the back of her mind. But running had let her release some of the emotion from finding Bao-Dur dead, after all they'd planned together, and she felt a little more in command when the surprisingly graceful wall of the Sith Academy rose before her. She met Mandalore there. "Are the others inside already?"

"Seems like. I'm just keeping our route back to the ship safe. I haven't heard anything from them in about half an hour."

Her forehead wrinkled. "I hope they're all right. Can I ask you to keep watching the path? I'm going in."

"That was my plan anyway. Every few minutes one of those beasts shows up and I shoot it. Good luck."

"Thank you."

She stepped forward onto the bridge across the chasm to the Academy and stopped short. She sensed Sith ahead of her, and as she watched, a dozen of them uncloaked from their stealth generators… and knelt in obeisance to her, like to a returning queen. They would not harm her yet.

She walked down the line of black-clad and masked assassins and into the Academy.

A Sith in black master's robes and a double-hilted lightsaber approached her. "Hail, Lady. The mistress offers you a choice. Either you may try to save your 'friends'…" He gestured to her right. "Or you may take your revenge all the faster." He gestured to the left. "Either way, prepare yourself."

"Thank you," Selyn said. "But it's you who should prepare yourself, if you try to challenge me." She turned to go right, then whirled as the Sith attacked her.

.

She fought her way through to the prison and found three of the cells occupied by friends. "Mical! Visas! Mira! …Where's Atton, and the droids?" Only T3 had been still on the ship, tootling indignantly about being left behind even while he busily repaired what he could.

"I don't know," Mical said; he was the most alert of those there, although he had bruises on his throat. But Mira was unconscious, covered in burns, and Visas was moving slowly, as if moving pained her. He went to Mira and picked her up, carrying her out of her cell. "We… we tried to challenge Kreia in your stead, to save you from whatever she has planned for you. It… went poorly. Atton was with us; I'm not sure where he went or how he got away." Selyn touched Mira's forehead, trying to heal her with the Force; it seemed to work a little, because Mira sighed and her expression eased.

"We don't know where the droids are," Visas said. "We didn't see them leave the ship."

"He's in pain," Selyn said, closing her eyes and reaching for him. "He's in trouble. Mandalore is still watching the exit, can you make it there? I think I cleared most of the Sith from the entrance to the Academy… although there could be reinforcements."

"We'll be fine," Visas said, reaching out and plucking their lightsabers from a nearby locker with the Force. "You trained us. We might not be a match for Kreia, but together we are strong."

"Be careful," Selyn said. "Try not to fight yet. When you get out, try to get back to the ship."

"I-I'm sorry we couldn't be more help," Mical stammered, head hanging.

She put a hand on his arm. "You did your best, and I'm proud of you. Meditate when you get to the ship, and think of me. I'll hear you."

He straightened. "Understood."

She kept her mind on them as they left, alert to see if she had to come to their aid, but it did not seem that they were attacked. And she also needed to find Atton, quickly. His sense was very weak in the Force. He was close…

She heard a rasping breath as she entered a wide room with pillars, and sprinted to his side. "Atton!" She rolled him over and pulled him into her arms, resting his head on her shoulder. His dark hair was soft against her cheek. He didn't look good; brutally stabbed in the chest, his limbs and body crosshatched in charred lines. Even his face had been slashed. Sion had tortured him, and she felt her heart constrict at the result, pain he unconsciously transmitted. At least he still had all his limbs.

He coughed, his sky-grey eyes cracking open, and a trickle of blood ran from his mouth. _No, no, no, mouth-bleeding is bad_. She could feel him clinging onto the Force, trying desperately to stop the wounds, to keep breathing, to stay alive, and she added her strength to his. It wasn't going to be enough… "H-hey. You're… alive. Did… I… save you yet? Your eyes…" Her eyes were horror-stricken, she knew. But he smiled fondly, hazily at her. "Th-that bad, huh? Always was ugly… now the outside matches."

"No, no, don't tease me now-"

He snorted a laugh. "Was waiting for this, but… 's not fair… let you down… was s'posed to save you."

"You did, Atton. We all saved each other, but you saved me the most."

He managed a weary smile. "Tired of living anyway… too many deaths… never told you… lied to you…" He turned his face away from her, frowning a little, and tears began to slip down her face. If he died, would she fall? No. If she truly loved him, she would not, not even here in her deepest nightmare. All of her fears about it flashed before her mind anyway, then vanished again as he began to speak again. "I don't want you to see me like this. I don't want to die in front of you. Can't bear it. Loved you from the moment I first saw you, thought you were a dream… tried to play it off as a joke… wasn't funny…" He snorted weakly anyway, and her heart thumped at his confession, then his face tightened in pain. "Hurts when I laugh. Hurts… You… saved me… Joke's on me… Hurts to talk… Hurts to breathe…"

"No! Atton! _Atton!_ " He was slipping away, his sense fading, his eyes already closed with his pain still etched on his face. She tightened her arms around him, pulling on all the Force she could find, all the life and love she had in her, and flung it around him, filling him with it.

His eyes popped open and he _breathed_.

"Atton!" She was tired now, but he was alive.

"Whoa- how- why- _look out behind you!_ "

No time to look, no time to think, she felt the danger too, and she'd jumped forward on pure adrenaline with Atton still clutched in her arms. Sion had lunged at her from behind a pillar. She jumped again, turning to face him and putting Atton down so he could stand on his own two feet.

"Why didn't you-"

She drew her lightsaber, and he followed suit, although he was still a bit shaky. "You don't think I'm going to let you die when that's only the second time you said you loved me?"

"Didn't think you'd have a choice! Where are the others, did you get them? I was going to, but I got side-tracked with Ugly over here."

"They're fine. Go to them!"

"But you're weak now, from helping me, that was their plan-"

She paused long enough to give him a bright, hopeful smile. "I'm fine. I can do this. Go take care of them."

"…Fine. I love you."

"I love you too."

Sion waited grimly as Atton fled the room, the door closing behind him. "He will not get far. There are others here. All you have done is drain your strength so he can die again, and you will die with him."

"I believe in him," she said quietly. Yes, she was tired. No, it didn't matter. "Your concern is no longer with him, Sion. And you wouldn't understand, I think."

"You should not have come to Malachor," Sion growled. "She will break you, your mind, your body… you will be lost. Return to the surface, let the planet claim you, as it claimed the other Jedi… there is no reason for you to suffer at her hands."

"I would not have expected mercy from you, Sion." Especially after _what_ he did to Atton.

His glare grew sharper. "It is not mercy. What awaits you will destroy you. She will break you, as she did me, and you will no longer know yourself."

"I must see her, Sion. I am not afraid." It wasn't bravado. Kreia could be cruel to her, could torture her mind or her body, could manipulate her as she had been doing all along – but Selyn knew her, and loved her. Kreia could not truly betray her, because all she did was for a purpose, and that purpose was that she loved Selyn. And she herself was stronger now. She would not be turned into a second Kreia, or a mockery of herself.

Kreia had the strongest will of anyone she'd ever known, but she was only as human as Selyn was.

"I cannot let you. If you pass, you will not return as you are now. Return to Malachor – or go through me. There is no middle ground."

She raised her lightsaber. "Then it will be as you wish. I don't wish to fight you, but I must pass."

Now he smiled, a sinister split in that wounded face. "I am ready for you, Exile. I have waited years to see the last of the Jedi fall before me, to join the rest that lie buried in this planet's core. The end of the Jedi is at hand."


	14. Part 14: Will of the Force

Author notes: Chapter themes! Against the Black Knight for the fight with Sion! Knights of Sidonia season 1 opening for the fight with Kreia! And finally, your closing credits song, a return to GitS: Living Within the Shell!

For the record I think Mical/Brianna is a decent pairing. .

.

Part 14: Will of the Force

.

She blocked Sion's lightsaber with her own, barely, sparks flying. He had weight and reach on her, and she was tired, exhausted after fighting through dozens of Sith and saving Atton's life.

But she had saved it, had saved him, the one she loved most of all, and she had the first inkling of proof that the Light could be used for as great, impossible deeds as the Dark. Nihilus stole lives through the Force, and both Sith and Jedi used the Force to speed their natural healing processes, but this was the first time she'd seen someone brought back from so-near death with the Force alone.

She broke the block by sweeping her blade through Sion's arm, but was no longer surprised to see that it healed immediately, a new grey-red scar creasing the line and no more. He didn't react in his face or stance at all. It was like fighting a droid. A droid that couldn't even be dismembered.

He spoke at last, grimly triumphant. "Now you realize the true power of the Dark Side. As long as the dark places of this world flow through the cracks in my flesh, I cannot be killed."

She met his look with an earnest look of her own. "A very wise droid once told me that this battle would never be about the flesh, but about belief."

He shook his head, stepping back momentarily. "You are strong… as strong as I had believed. But you cannot kill me. She knows this. Surrender now, return to the surface of Malachor… do not force me to destroy you."

She stepped back too, and studied him carefully. His face might be as stoic as granite, but his feelings surged within him, pushing and pulling, this way and that. "And you cannot defeat me. She knows this, too. She has chosen me because I gave up the Force – and you could not. Let go, and you will understand."

A swell of anger and incredulity. "There is no life without the Force… the Force is a blade; without it, one is defenseless."

The anger surrounded her and pressed in on her, but she lifted her head, her expression open. "The Force is only a part of what life is, Sion. You feel it, but do not understand it."

"The Force is pain. The Force is focus. The Force is that which drives the strong and kills the weak. I shall teach you this – and in so doing, spare you the pain that awaits."

Perhaps each of them was correct in their own point of view – the irreconcilable void ever between Sith and Jedi. "Do you think I am so weak? No, Sion. I will not give up or retreat. But I don't want to kill you, either." She didn't. He was… pathetic, in his own way.

He raised his lightsaber again. "If you will not leave this place, then I cannot allow you to pass. If you go before her, you will be broken. If killing you will spare you what lies ahead, then kill you I must…"

It might not be possible for him to live without the Dark Side, when it was all that kept his body from falling apart. But for all his terrifying power, despite all the horrible, evil things he'd done in his life, despite the way he'd tortured Atton and murdered Master Vash and cut off Kreia's hand, she felt for him. He would vehemently hate her compassion, she knew, but there was nothing in his life, no real purpose, besides that which hating Kreia and pursuing her gave. He was alone like she had been in exile, but with even less hope than she'd had, sunk so far into the Dark Side that the way out could not be seen. She'd rather never feel the Force again than drown in its cold depths again, but it was all he had.

He fought her because he loved her, in his own way. Perhaps this was his own strange attempt at redemption… or maybe it was only his final act of revenge against Kreia.

He was slicing through the pillars of the room with his lightsaber, knocking them into dust, as she retreated before him. But she wasn't dead yet, and she was steadily getting small hits in on him. She wondered if it only fueled his rage and pain and control of the Force. But… he was reacting now, more than he had before; slight twitches in his face and limbs whenever her lightsaber touched him.

HK's advice must be working. She was unraveling his self-control, his beliefs, his implacable will, one word, one scar at a time.

She goaded him into stabbing the wall, and slashed him across the gut in the brief moment it took him to free his blade again. He snarled, his face cracking horrifyingly. "If I die here, then you will have sealed your fate."

He'd accepted that she might be able to kill him. But killing her wouldn't help him, either. "Even if you defeat me, Kreia has marked you for death. She will never accept you. You know this. Why do you still fight me?" She looked at him with sadness, even as she parried his attacks and stepped back, always stepping back. There was no way out for him now. Unless he abandoned his goal of killing her, but he was proud. He would not.

Kreia had broken him on her will, once. Selyn would rather die than be subjected to the same fate, bound by eternal hatred and agony, living only to cause death and grief. But she would not die to Sion, not before she'd seen Kreia and either saved her or found herself wanting.

He glared at her with his one good eye, with a cold blankness. "There is truth in your words… but there is nothing left for me except my master. I fight because it is the power that the Force fills me with. To survive, to inflict the pain on others. I can die a hundred times, Exile, and still I will rise again, as strong as before."

She had nothing to say to that. But she couldn't think of anything more wretched.

Perhaps one way to convince him would be to give it up, as she had given it up for the battle with Nihilus. She felt for her Force-bonds as he approached her, and closed the gates of her soul, and immediately felt its absence. She felt naked without it, vulnerable, empty, like there was something missing from the universe. There was no safety net for her now. Even her other senses seemed more dull… but they were all she could rely on right now, so she waited, upright and relaxed.

He stared at her, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. "If you wish to die so quickly…"

But he knew that not all her skill came from the Force, and he was more cautious in his next approach. She was an unknown to him now. He couldn't sense what she would do next, as much as she couldn't sense what he would do next. And she could not sense his hatred and fury anymore. _That_ would not be a distraction now.

He lunged forward, and she met his attack with only the strength of her body, counterattacked with only the reflexes of her body. She was tired, and without the Force to support her she was even more tired, but she had trained well. He loomed over her and yet she was not afraid.

She dodged and blocked and met him inch for inch, always giving way but never giving up. He cut her in the arm, in the cheek, but only shallowly. She kept going, her lightsaber whirling, beating his scarlet blade out of the way and hopping over his return swing.

She lunged forward as he was left wide open and stabbed him through the chest, just as she had on Korriban not that long ago.

He stumbled and fell to his knees before her, dropping his lightsaber, which switched off. He groaned in pain, and took a few breaths before he growled: "I will not fall. I cannot die."

She switched off her own lightsaber and knelt on one knee before the fallen giant. Her voice was soft and gentle. "You have already been defeated, Sion. Surrender, and I will spare you."

Slowly, he raised his head, and she was struck by how his one good eye was a living brown, the eye of a normal human. "Why… why did she choose you? What makes you able to defeat me, defeat me here?"

"Because I was able to turn away from it. And you could not."

"It is not possible to walk away from such things unscarred. To keep living when the universe dies around you."

She sat back on her heels. "It is difficult, and it leaves scars on the soul as deep as the ones on your body. But… it also leaves room to heal."

He shook his head, looking at the floor again. "The Force is who I am. The Dark Side fills me. It is what I am."

"Kreia hates the Force, even as she wields it." The revelation came to her even as she spoke it, but she said it with certainty; she knew it to be true like she knew Kreia loved her. "But it is possible to live without it. And die without it."

He stood, and his hand went to his wound, but then he let it fall away. It was useless if his fury was gone. She stood, too, and reached up to touch his face, his poor mangled face. "It is the truth, Sion… you feel it. Let go. It is not such a terrible thing." She smiled at him, a tiny smile of reassurance.

He reached up to cup her hand against his face, briefly, and his other hand touched her cheekbone, her forehead, brushing her hair away from her eyes. "Kreia will try to break you, to teach you how far someone can fall. Her weakness… is you. As you were mine." He withdrew his hands and took a step back, his eye fixed on her, and he sighed wearily. "I am glad to leave this place… at last."

His eye closed and he fell forward, dead before he struck the floor.

"May the Force be with you, Sion."

.

There was nothing more she could do for him, but she waited for a moment of silence, resting. She was so very tired. And Kreia would not help her. But after that moment, she left him. Her final challenge was upon her and she didn't want to delay it.

The great door behind him led into a giant cavern, dimly lit, but filled with dark, vivid reds and greens. A platform like a crown was suspended over an abyss, with a double ring of points shaped like giant teeth, the smaller ones about ten metres, the larger ones twice that size. Kreia knelt on a raised portion at the centre, on a great glowing red disc. Perhaps from above it looked like a monstrous eye.

Kreia rose at her coming and turned to her, robed and hooded in black, with black bindings in her long white hair. "At last you have arrived. Is Malachor as you remember?"

"Kreia…" Yes, her teacher was the same. She had not changed with her clothes, as Selyn had irrationally feared for a brief moment. She didn't know the answer to her question. Malachor was the same, still steeped in Darkness, or had it been that her mind had been shrouded in Darkness when she fought here? Or was it both, coupled with the mass slaughter that had scarred her to the core and spread ripples of agony through the galaxy?

It was the same and not the same. Atton would snort at her cryptic Jedi-speak, but it was the best she could do.

"You no doubt have many questions. I would be a poor teacher if I did not give you the answers you seek here, now."

Selyn spread her hands. "Why did you do… everything?"

Kreia was silent a moment. "Because I hate the Force. I wield it, but it uses us all, and that is abhorrent to me. I hate that it seems to have a will, a destiny for us all, that it would control us to achieve some measure of balance, when countless lives are lost. But in you…" She turned towards Selyn and her voice grew soft. "I see the potential to see the Force die, to turn away from its will. And that is what pleases me. You are beautiful to me, Selyn Tekeri. A dead spot in the Force, an emptiness in which its will might be denied."

"But you use it as much as I do." She had _encouraged_ Selyn to use it, in the beginning.

"I use it as I would use a poison, and in the hopes of understanding it, I will learn the way to kill it." She sighed. "But perhaps these are the excuses of an old woman who has grown to rely on a thing she despises."

"You were manipulating me all along."

"Yes, always. From the moment you awoke, I have used you. I have used you so that you might become strong, stronger than I. I used you to keep the Lords of the Sith from condemning the galaxy to death with their power unchecked. I used you to lure them to Telos, where they could be, at last, fought and killed. I used you to reveal Atris's corruption, so that her teachings could be ended before they began. I used you to gather the Jedi so they could be destroyed, although… I did not intend their deaths. And I used you to make those who wounded me reveal themselves, so they could be killed by the Republic."

"You didn't intend to kill the Masters?"

"I would not have revealed myself to them, but they were still as deaf to your words, to the meaning of _you_ , as you were to the Force ten years ago. Stubborn fools. They could not let go of the illusion they had created together. In threatening you, they forced my hand. I wish they had not. They might have been useful. But they will not harm you – or your students – now."

"Why did you destroy Atris? She had fallen, but there was still good in her."

"I never destroyed Atris – she had destroyed herself. I merely stripped away the illusion, and brought her truth. Her teachings could not be allowed to continue. And like Malachor, she was part of your past, unresolved. She needed to be something you could confront – and defeat, one last time. It was part of your training. Part of what was needed to make you complete. She loved you, you know, as one loves a champion. You were all that she could not be."

"She never told me such feelings…" But she had fought Atris, had felt her emotions running wild. Love had not been among them, but she could believe it was at the root of them, the perfect example of why the old Jedi Council had forbidden Jedi to love. If she had sparred with her when she was young, would she have realized Atris's feelings sooner?

"Yes… it is all that is left unsaid upon which tragedies are built. More echoes, traveling through the Force."

There was only one other important question she had. "Why me?"

Kreia smiled softly. "Perhaps you were expecting some surprise, for me to reveal a secret that had eluded you, something that would change your perspective of events, shatter you to your core. There is no great revelation, no great secret. There is only you."

"But there were other Jedi you could have chosen."

"No, there were not. In times past and in times future, there are Jedi who will stop listening to the Force, those that will try to forget it, but maintain unconscious ties. And those, as in the past just as I, who have had the Force stripped from them. But no Jedi ever made the choice you did. To sever ties so completely, so utterly, that it leaves a wound in the Force. It was a mistake to make you feel it again, I see that now. There is no truth in the Force. But there is truth in you, Selyn. And that is why I chose you."

She didn't agree. But that didn't matter. "What happens now?"

"The apprentice must kill the Master – if you do not, I will kill you. If I do not, then all you have achieved will be as nothing, as empty, and as violent as Malachor itself."

The final test; the final exam, even. Kreia knew as well as she did how pointless it seemed to her; to pretend to be evil, when she was neither evil nor good, only herself. But she also knew that Selyn would not fight her at all if she pretended to be good, and it was almost like fighting herself – if she could beat Kreia, then Kreia would acknowledge her as strong. Even though Selyn didn't care about that. And it was good that she did not; if she did, she would have run the risk of corruption, of being broken as Sion had warned, to willingly kill someone so close to her, especially for something as arbitrary as strength. It wasn't worth that.

But Atris's warning… If Selyn died, here, if her wound in the Force was wounded again violently, it would create another echo, one that would spread until it killed the Force itself, and all the life that felt it, depended on it. In that sense, it was not so pointless.

Kreia would win either way, it seemed. And Selyn would not be a sacrificial victim. She was a Knight.

Kreia lit a red lightsaber and remained imperially motionless. Selyn brandished her violet blade and took a two-handed stance with it. Then she charged. The Force flickered around her, a blazing corona of power.

Anyone who had seen them before they began to battle would have thought it one-sided – an old woman and a woman in her prime, a sage in a black robe and a warrior in blue armour. But it was anything but one-sided. Kreia was fast, as fast as Selyn, and her age had not made her weak. Their lightsabers clashed, again and again, as the fighters stepped and spun, their blades carving lethal paths through the air. The air boiled with the Force, with telekinesis and suggestion, and Selyn switched back and forth between shutting it off, shutting off Kreia's sense from her mind, and pulling her full control of it around her. In this last decisive fight, life and love were as much her tool and her weapon as her lightsaber. When she used it, she felt stronger in it. Her students were thinking of her; their prayers were reaching her.

 _I forgive you. I do not fear you. I love you_. Could Kreia read her feelings in their battle, in her sense in the Force? She showed no sign of it, and her sense in the Force gave away nothing either. There was no crack in her mental armour, no weakness in her physical defence. And Selyn's mental armour was full of holes, wearing her weakness as strength, indomitable in her faith.

But there was no time for her to think, only to act and react, instinct and training taking over from conscious thought and strategic planning. Kreia was immovable, a pillar at the heart of Malachor, and Selyn was the wind that assaulted that pillar.

Kreia flung out her hand and her lightsaber, and Selyn saw it too late, was thrown back until she struck one of the teeth three metres above the floor, and was impaled through the stomach with the lightsaber a moment later. She hardly felt it, shock and adrenaline protecting her; she ripped it from her body and hurled it back, collapsing to the floor onto her side. Only then did her wound register with her nerves and mind, and she screamed, and Kreia was upon her.

 _Not yet_. She swept her lightsaber upwards, blocking Kreia's downward strike, and pulled all the Force she could reach into her stab wound, like she had done for Atton. She spun to her feet, her eyes filled with determination, and stepped forward on the attack again.

Kreia hadn't been affected by the stab wound? Or had she only disguised her reaction well while Selyn was distracted, using her immense self-control? There were no residual ripples in her sense, nothing but a wall of implacable doom behind misty barriers. She switched off the Force. It could tell her nothing now.

Their blades locked again, and Selyn suddenly thrust her hand forwards, summoning the Force back to her.

Kreia was blasted back like she had done to Selyn, but Selyn did not throw her lightsaber at her, too. She let Kreia fall to the floor, defenseless, and lowered her lightsaber. "Yield, Kreia. I don't want to kill you."

"If you do not kill me, I shall end you," Kreia hissed. "Strike me down, finish this."

"No. Your life is yours, Kreia, and you cannot teach me anymore."

Kreia's face twisted in prideful wrath. "You will not show me mercy. I will see you break before you do." She gestured viciously and suddenly from nowhere, three crimson lightsabers attacked Selyn, hanging in midair. She had to jump back to avoid losing her head.

It was like fighting three Kreias at once; they were lightning fast, with the weight of the Force behind them like the weight of a warrior. She had to keep moving, retreating around the room, trying not to let her exhaustion slow her down. She needed the Force now, all of it, all the time, to support her and her failing physical strength. There was no limit to the Force, but there was a limit to biology and even adrenaline could not help her for long

But it must be difficult for Kreia to control three sabers at once, and she couldn't have been unwearied from fighting directly with Selyn. Sooner or later, she'd make a mistake in her anger.

The first lightsaber she caught out, she stabbed in the centre of the hilt, and it popped and clattered to the ground in a tinkle of parts and crystal shards. She heard Kreia grunt in pain, and did not let herself wince, but kept her guard up.

 _Let it flow_. She couldn't cut Kreia's connection to the lightsabers, but she could feel it, was beginning to feel how they worked, how to anticipate them. She slashed at them, tapping their deadly touch away from her body. How to end this lethal light-show? Red, violet, red again, all she could see were the colours dancing in front of her.

She yelled, focusing her concentration down to the silver points at the base of the red blades, and lunged for one, slicing it in half. The other cleaved into her side, through her lightsaber-resistant armour, but though she stumbled and almost fell, the last lightsaber was wavering. Kreia's strength was waning.

 _One more. Just one more_. She yelled again, raising her lightsaber. _End this. End it now_.

 _I'm sorry, Kreia_.

The last lightsaber went spinning away into the darkness, sparking as it shattered, and on the other side of the chamber, Kreia swayed and crumpled quietly to the floor.

Selyn ran to her, holding her side and trying to heal the lancing pain there. She staggered to kneel at Kreia's side, taking her in her arms, resting Kreia's head on her shoulder and holding her withered hand in her own.

"Kreia… I'm sorry."

"Do not be sorry. You are greater than any I have ever trained. By killing me here – you have rewarded me more than you can possibly know."

She had wondered if she would cry. It seemed she would not, but she could feel the tears inside her still. "I had no choice. You left me no choice."

"No… no, many choices were there, but… you made the right ones."

She dropped her head. "All my life, I have been used; by the Force, Revan, you… I never felt like I truly made choices, because the alternatives were so much worse." She looked at Kreia and smiled. "But I realize that, now. My life has never been my own while I devote my life to the service of others – and I do not wish to do otherwise. I have made the choice to live a life in which I give up my choice. And if I am used along the way… that is the will of the Force. As long as I also achieve my goals, to protect, to save, I will be content. But I will make my sacrifice matter."

"I know you will. What you say is true, and yet the Force has no hold on you."

"But if the Force has a destiny for us all, then everything that has happened was according to its plan. If Mandalorians did not go to war of their own accord, but were meant to go, then perhaps Revan was meant to oppose them, and Malak and I were meant to follow… so that Revan could discover the true threat in the Unknown Regions and fight it." She raised her head and looked off into the distance. "Only at this moment am I truly free, and I suspect not for long."

"A great decision lies ahead of you, but it is all your own. I had hoped you would follow Revan's path, but you and Revan are different, and your path is your own. There is no dishonour in any choice you make. I only ask that you make it without regret."

"I may follow Revan, in the end. She shouldn't have to fight all alone." As she spoke, her nebulous plan took shape in her mind, until her goal became certainty. Reven needed her. She'd been gone for four years already.

"Very well. There is nothing holding you here, not any longer." Kreia smiled, weakly. "I would have killed the galaxy to preserve you. I would have let the galaxy die. You are more precious than you know; what you have taught yourself cannot be allowed to die. You are not a Jedi. Not truly. And it is for that that I love you."

"I love you too, Kreia, as a daughter loves her mother – perhaps unspoken, most of the time, but felt all the same." Selyn squeezed her hand. "What will happen to my friends? Do you know?" They could not come with her. They were all that was left of the Jedi. The galaxy needed them more than she did.

A shadowy smiled crossed Kreia's face. "You traveled with your companions for so long, yet you do not know them still. Feel them through the Force, feel what they feel, hear their thoughts and know them, as I fought to know you. They were the Lost Jedi, you know. The true Jedi, upon which the future will be built. They simply needed a leader, and a teacher."

She began to ask "If I leave…" and stopped. _If I leave, will they be all right without me? Will I be all right without them? And Atton in particular_ – That was a moment she would have to endure in the future; it was already written in her intentions, in her being, that she would leave. They would have to be all right without her. But she knew they would. She trusted them. And Atton… he would endure, too.

"If you go, you must go where Revan did, into the Unknown Regions, where the Sith, the true Sith, wait in the dark for the great war that comes. She came here because she remembered what lay buried here – this place, its teachings. And she came because Malachor, like Korriban, lies on the fringes of the ancient Sith Empire, where the true Sith wait for us, in the dark. They have forgotten it… for a time. They will remember."

"The Sith already struck against the Republic, haven't they?"

Kreia frowned. "Have we? You thought that the corrupted remnants of the Republic, the machines spawned by technology that Revan led into battle were the Sith? You are wrong. The Sith is a belief. And its empire, the true Sith Empire, rules elsewhere. And Revan knew the true war is not against the Republic. It waits for us, beyond the Outer Rim. And she has gone to fight it, in her way. She left the Ebon Hawk and its machines behind, for she knew she would not need them. And, like you, she knew she must leave all loves behind as well, no matter how deeply one cares for them. Because such attachments would only bring doom to them both in the dark places where she now walks. It would have helped had she made him understand, but a hero of the Republic, no matter how brave, cannot understand war as Revan did."

No one understood war like Revan did, not even Selyn. "Why did you not follow her?" Kreia loved Revan, too, maybe even more than she loved Selyn. Revan had been her best student.

"Because I did not know where she had gone. If she had asked… would I have gone? I do not know. But she will need warriors, Sith and Jedi, any who can be sent after her into the depths of space, any who know the way. Perhaps you shall go there with her, and do battle at the end of all things. Instead, I remained here… and now show others the way." Kreia sighed a deep sigh. "And now I am done."

Selyn pressed her hand to her heart. "Rest now, Kreia. Your time in this place is over."

Kreia closed her sightless eyes and sighed again, and her Force-sense departed from her. And Selyn was left, a little colder, a little tireder, but alive, her heart beating in the centre of Malachor V.

.

The ground began to shake, more violently than it had done before since she arrived, and she jumped up in alarm. Had Remote already set off the Mass Shadow Generator? She wasn't going to say goodbye to Kreia and then immediately get killed! She ran out of the inner sanctum, through the Academy as fast as she could pull her battered body along with the Force, and to the door to the outside.

She started in surprise when she reached the door. Familiar senses, familiar engine whine, and the boarding ramp was extending before her, and Mical was reaching out from it towards her with a smile. She took his hand and was pulled on board, and was greeted by everyone – Mira, Visas, Mandalore, T3, even HK – where was Goto? HK reported that he was dead, and there was no time to look for him now.

They gathered in the cockpit as Atton gunned the engine, putting the ship safely into space, outbound for hyperspace, and watched the rear sensors as the planetoids split apart, releasing massive bolts of green lightning into the surrounding nebula. No one spoke for a minute.

Then Atton said loudly: "Thank the frakking Force no one has to go back to that dump ever again! …We don't have to go back, right? No one forgot their credit chits there, right?"

She began to laugh, helplessly, and the others joined her, and somehow she and Mical and Mira and Visas ended up in a slightly awkward group hug, partly leaning on the back of the pilot's chair in an effort to include Atton as well. "Hey, hey, trying to fly a ship here!"

The stars turned into streaks, and they were in hyperspace, speeding across the galaxy to a well-deserved rest.

.

Telos wasn't exactly a resort, but there were real beds, and food that hadn't been reconstituted out of a can, and alcohol, so it was a fine place in his book to take some downtime after everyone almost died again. Especially him. Was saving the galaxy always this much trouble?

At least he felt like he'd repaid some of his debt to the galaxy. Each of the scars Sion had given him, to him now stood for one of the innocent lives he'd taken when he served the Sith. Not as a reminder of guilt, but as a reminder that he was free from the guilt. That he'd finally turned his life around properly. Although everything was thanks to Selyn. She'd pointed him in the right direction, she'd inspired him and supported him, and when he'd thought he'd given everything he could give, she'd brought his life back from the edge of the grave. He'd never, ever be able to repay her. He was even more lucky that she didn't want him to.

The jacket was a total loss, though. And he'd loved that jacket. But thank goodness the scars didn't stand out too much. A pretty face was one of the few things he really had to offer her. He trusted that if he'd been really messed up, she would have loved him anyway for whatever was left of worth inside, but sue him, he was still a little vain.

The first thing that they did was to hold a memorial for Bao-Dur. It was old-fashioned, but instead of setting him adrift in space, they buried him in the ground of Telos, under a green field near the seashore, where he'd once said he liked to walk. Over his grave, Visas placed a holo-marker, which simply read: "Bao-Dur, Jedi Knight". Some of the Ithorians from the station joined the crew of the Ebon Hawk to honour him, although their rituals were kind of long and tedious, and Ithorian was hard to understand. He sat through it anyway. He missed Bao-Dur. And his annoying Remote.

When they returned to Citadel Station, the mood changed. It seemed like Telos was still celebrating, just a little, even though Darth Nihilus had already happened a week ago, but Mira also wanted to celebrate their triumph over Malachor and their safe return against all odds, and Selyn thought it was a good idea. Mira got them a private room at the cantina, and they all gathered, eating, drinking, talking about what they'd shared. Even T3 showed up to beep incomprehensibly at everyone, although HK couldn't be found.

Things were so much lighter now. Even Selyn seemed no longer to be carrying the _entire_ galaxy on her shoulders. Just for tonight, she could hide it better than usual, was just a woman enjoying herself with her friends. Although she mentioned something about the four of them, her students, being the new Jedi Council that left all four of them speechless and Mandalore helpless with laughter.

Whatever else he had to say about Mira, she had picked out good music for this get-together, and he turned to Selyn once the food part of the evening seemed over. "Hey, wanna dance?"

Selyn's eyes slid away from his. Was she… embarrassed? "I don't know how."

He was better than her at something besides Pazaak? Shocking. But she hadn't said she didn't want to. "C'mon, I'm sure you're a natural. Just follow my lead." He stood and held out his hand to her, and she blinked at it and took it, following him to the open part of the room.

"You dance?"

He pretended to be offended at her surprise. "Sweetheart, I'm Alderaanian. We learn to dance in grade school."

She giggled, and let him put his arms around her waist. "I'd have liked to see that."

"Little Atton, little Jaq dancing? Yeah, it was real freakin' cute. I was just as adorable as a bratty kid, I'll have you know. Now, just keep stepping in time with the beat. I'll guide you."

She showed no fear on her face, but her sense in the Force drew closer to his, a little nervously. He chuckled and opened his mind to hers, so she could anticipate what he was doing next. It worked; at least, she kept up with him as he stepped her through turns and spins. She seemed to be enjoying herself innocently, and it made him smile.

Mical was staring at them wistfully, and he wondered if she noticed. Probably. She was probably making plans to go dance with him next, so that he didn't feel left out. Even though everyone knew what her choice was. It was all right. He could be gracious in… not victory, that was too possessive. Whatever. He wouldn't gloat.

Besides, Visas was asking Mical to dance now. Mira was already dancing by herself, too independent to be bothered with this 'couples' nonsense. Mandalore had already left.

.

He walked her to her room from the cantina after she'd decided she'd had enough for one evening. People recognized her on the walk, and greeted her, thanked her in the street. It seemed she wasn't used to being made much of, after being in exile for ten years and coming straight out of the Wars. Had she ever been made much of? It didn't matter, she was getting her due now.

He paused in front of her door, unwilling to let go of her hand, and cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "Well, uh… goodnight, I guess?"

That was lame even for him. It seemed she agreed, because she reached up and pulled him into a kiss. He made a tiny helpless noise as his arms went around her, as her arms went around him, and their kiss deepened. What she did to him, this tiny, sweet, unstoppable woman, the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. She drew him gently into her room, still kissing him.

It was like he was drunk on her; he couldn't get enough, and it seemed like she couldn't get enough of him, clinging to him like this was the last time she'd see him. Well, this was the first time they'd had enough privacy and downtime to be really affectionate like this, and seemed like the first time she'd ever kissed or been kissed like this, too.

He only became suspicious when she invited him into her bed, too.

.

He woke up alone; the room was empty, and not just of her – of her stuff, too. She didn't have a lot, but she was definitely gone.

Frak. Frak, frak, _frak_. He'd guessed this might happen. She was going to leave, she was going in search of Revan and her mysterious Sithy danger, and he was _not_ going to be left behind like Carth Onasi. Not yet, anyway. It was much too dramatic and cliche.

He dashed back to his own room, creeping in so as not to wake Mical, grabbed his own kit, and took off in a tearing hurry for the docking bays, hoping against hope that she hadn't actually left the station yet. People looked at him funny as he ran past at full speed, boots thumping on the walkways, but he didn't care. He couldn't feel her presence, but maybe she was just being sneaky and hiding her connection to the Force? He hoped. Oh, he hoped.

Would she take the Ebon Hawk? She would, at least for the first part of her journey, right? It was still in its berth, and he propped himself against the wall outside, crossing his arms and his ankles and feigning nonchalance. Inside, his heart pounded with anxiety. What if she had already gone? What if he guessed wrong and she took a different ship?

But she was a Jedi, and he knew how to read Jedi. A small figure stepped out of the cross-corridor and stopped short. He turned to her, affecting a smirk, although it was shaky with relief, his heart speeding up inadvertently at the sight of her.

"So…" he drawled, "need any company? I mean, I'm not doing anything."

She stared at him. "I left a note…"

He gave her a skeptical look. As if a note would satisfy him, and she knew it. "Besides, if I'm not around to bail you out of trouble, who knows what could happen."

Her blank expression melted into an affectionate smile. "All right. You can come with."

He grinned. "All right, then. Where are we going again? I mean, because last time, we were hightailing it out of this mining colony on the edge of space, and there was this Sith Lord, and…"

His time with her was limited, he knew. One day not long from now he'd wake up and she'd have really given him the slip, and he'd have to go back and help the others set up the new Jedi Order and be _responsible_ and stuff. But he was going to stick around as long as she would let him.

They launched into space, heading out into the limitless stars. Off on another adventure, with probably as much heart-ache and pain and despair as the last one… and as much joy and discovery and hope, too. He glanced over at her in the co-pilot's seat, and she smiled at him, so beautiful. He smiled back, reached out, and pulled on the hyperspace lever.


End file.
